Winter

Looking out the window again. Another Winter. Another thousand cars thrumming by on the freeway. No wind. No sound of birds. Why do you not hear them as much in colder months? Are they rugged up in the nest? Contending like the rest of us, with the seasons and their attendant effects on the brain and limbs, the daily chores and disciplines?

The mid morning chill. The damp limbs of deciduous homes. Their world is our world. Their world is mine. We are creatures together. Interconnected. Yet I look out on them and their Winter silence through a window pane like some other world, separate from the one I inhabit. I look out as if through just another screen. A TV. A computer. A zoo. An Asylum. Just another screen through which I am entertained and distracted from my creatureliness. From my fellow creatures.