November Silence

     

November 11^th—Veteran’s Day—has always been a quiet break in my life.  In college, it was the time to catch up on back reading. As a teacher, it is a time to catch up on silence. This year was no exception. Mark went to work, leaving me alone in the house, a rare occurrence since the pandemic began and he moved his office into the basement. The morning was sunny, but chilly, with rain clouds on the western horizon. I headed outside right after breakfast. The cat followed.

For the next three hours, I puttered around the yard with trimmers and a wheelbarrow, cutting back perennials and piling  the leaves in the front beds, spreading compost, and  and generally tidying up.  Kayli sat in the neighbor’s driveway and washed, hoping for a college boy to stop and worship her. No one did.  When I moved around back she gave up,  wandered after me, and climbed up on the roof of the garage, one of her favorite spots. I took out the last two tomato plants and raked leaves, moved some plants into the greenhouse and rearranged them, and dumped the compost bin into the back hoop. The rabbit ate fallen jujube fruits and the chickens carried on their usual conversations about wanting to be let out. The clouds gathered and, just as I finished, cold rain began to fall. I propped up the wheelbarrow, coaxed the cat off of the fence, and fled inside.

Even though the furnace is out, the house is cozy. The yellow walls glow against grey light outside. There was an excellent bit of left-over casserole for lunch with the latest National Geographic article on a new museum in Egypt. After lunch,   I made a second cup of tea and moved into the living room, where the cat had discovered the space heater. Perfect. Rain outside. Juncos discovering the seed I had just spread on the ladder in front of the window. Blanket, tea, couch, cat, book inside.  We spent the second half of the day in companionable silence.