Of the winter solstice and song

Winter solstice 2020.

The ice sang to me this morning.

As Colorado’s gusty winds blew my hair into my eyes, blinding me, I had to stop and listen.

Just as the sun was rising.

Just as the nearby traffic noises slowly started buzzing.

Just as the banging ruckus that kept me awake most of the night finally revealed itself.

The ice sang to me. And, it did not disappoint.

At first, the sound startled me. The creaks and cracks I usually associate with my aging body were coming not from my knees but from the sheet of ice on the pond before me.

It’s the same ice our neighbor’s white cat, Jack, likes to skate across chasing the geese in desperate catty hops. (I fear Jack may not be long for this world with his foolhardy hunts.)

It’s the same ice our friends’ children rode their bikes alongside yesterday, scaring me to death with every shaky swerve of tiny hands on tiny handlebars.

It’s the same ice I have pretty much taken for granted as another sign of a long, cold winter.

That is until this morning, the morning of the winter solstice.

From here, the days will start getting longer. There will be more sunlight. The ice will come and go.

I hope its song stays for as long as possible.

When the ice sings to me, I will never take it for granted.