When I woke up this morning, I could tell it had snowed overnight even before I opened the curtains. I could hear it. Or, more accurately, it was what I couldn’t hear — the traffic. The strange thing is that I don’t usually hear the traffic at all, or at least I don’t think I hear it. The noise of the street and the quiet hum of the city is so constant that it recedes into the background and I usually just tune it out. A layer of fresh snow muffles the sound of cars and coats everything with a white blanket of soundlessness. While thick flakes were still floating through the air, before the snowplows spread salt and sand and noisiness back onto the roads, I bundled up and went outside. I walked to a nearby field, leaving tracks that were soon swallowed up by the softly falling snow, and listened to the silence.
Photo taken on December 16, 2010