Standing in the bathroom of my mostly quiet house, I hear the ticking of two clocks. Set to slightly different times, they sound out a call and response–one ticks and the other answers, half a second later. 86,400 times a day they do this, an ongoing conversation marking the passage of time, constant and dependable, until one or both’s battery dies and stops it, just like that.
Maybe it had been forecast and I just wasn’t paying attention, but on a later than normal walk at City Park, we are surprised by the snow. It falls slowly at first, but quickly gets more intense. Some people at the park are exercising in shorts, so I guess they hadn’t expected snow either.
Half way around the park, the snow and wind are blowing hard enough I have to look down at my feet, can’t easily see or breathe if I look straight ahead. The snow muffles everything, turning the park cold, white, and quiet.
Open Space Practice, (AKA: A Thousand Shades of Gray) 