Monday, February 13, 2012

The quiet of a snowfall

The heart of the city is a boisterous resonating enclave. People and vehicles are continually juxtaposing nosily for position on the very limited concrete that the streets and sidewalks afford. Add the hum of buildings, the swoosh of revolving doors, horns from aggrieved  drivers, the vibrations, the static dim and the decibel levels are deafening.  

On a winter afternoon, imperceptibly at first, snow starts to fall and fall and fall. The sounds of the city that were so pervasive earlier begin to muffle.  The clap of shoes against the sidewalk is not discernible in the gathering snow. The reverberation of the cars pressing against the road is cushioned by the new fallen layer of powder. The chatting of passerby’s is absorbed by the crystalline formations floating in the air. The hum is modulated, the swoosh is stilled, the horns grow silent, the vibrations are dampened, the all-pervasive dim is gone, the lights flicker without the accompany pitch, the daily tasks continue to unfold though at a slower pace, the harmony of movement itself takes on a dream like quality. The melody of the city softens. The snow falls and a resonating city is peacefully blanketed by the quiet of a snowfall.