Quiet

6th December 2008, Taunton, Massachusetts

The crunch of the shoes is not unlike gravel once I give it a few hours but when fresh, it gives me the joy of being a cat. As of now, the wind is louder than my footsteps and for someone as ungraceful as me, that is a rare privilege. There is the novelty factor as well, coming from hometowns where winters are sunny breezy affairs requiring a double sweater at most and that too only to keep the notion of winter alive. Here, quite a few degrees of latitude above the tropical ones, the whiteness is like living within a cone of silence, most colours muted and those that escape do contrast but in quiet rebellion.