As the snow floats down to the rock- hard earth, first a flake at a time, then finally in soft white curtains, an entirely new silence falls. Many times during the night I wake to listen, listen, but there is no sound at all. The silence is as thick and soft as wool. I cannot tell. And so I drift back into my dreams.
Winter here is more than a physical climate, it is also a psychic climate.
Sublimely beautiful and serenely silent, the embrace of winter draws us into daydreams and deep comforting sleep during endless winter evenings. Watching shadows dance on the ceiling while sipping a cup of warm Bourbon tea, the warmth from a fire burning low in the hearth sends our thoughts drifting far away. It is for many of us a time and season for inner reflection as we end the present year and prepare to enter the next year and chapter of our lives. It is from the ballet Ma M re l'Oye, based on the Mother Goose folk stories. The piece opens to a folklike tune on the flute, with a counter melody played on the horn and violas.