Quiet Before the Storm

I was doing some yard work today. Mother Nature gave us quite a treat with sunshine and temperatures in the fifties.

I knew from checking on the web that this weather gift was going to be short lived - rain and much cooler temperatures were quickly heading our way.

It was in between digging out a small holly tree that needed to be moved and pruning back some shrubs that I noticed the absolute quiet.

The breeze had stopped rustling fallen leaves, the geese in the nearby pond had stopped gossiping, and a new dampness in the air muffled any noise that might otherwise have reached my ears from far afield.

I was reminded of those times when, as kids playing outdoors in winter, we could always tell when a new coating of snow was in store for us. The air would go still, the leading edge of the weather front having already arrived. The natural light of day would changed from semi-brilliant to muted gray. And - like an enormous blanket - the suddenly damp and heavy air would mute any sound.

We often speak of quiet before the storm to describe events in our lives.

Mother Nature has been using quiet before storms for eternity.