Thoughtfetti

The trees behind my house are whispering to each other. They are telling secrets to the wind. Leaves fluttering, hands waving as they describe what they've seen, animated. They'll be quiet all winter - this is one last tea party to share the season's end gossip. Sometimes, when the wind is right, I think I can just make out what they are saying.
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Last night I stood out in the driveway talking to the sister of my heart, K. The air smelled of wood smoke and snow (no, it didn't snow - but you know that cold, clean smell). She was driving somewhere in Florida, straight into the moon. I watched the moon rise through the screen of trees, tangle her beams in the branches. K said "Hey, K? I love you under this moon." I said "Hey, K? I love you under this moon." We may sometimes be a nation apart, but we're always under the same moon.
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Moments of silence are rare, around here - television, computer, LeapPad, video games...it's a constant, underlying strain on my sanity. Hearing the hawk cry out this morning was a blessing - nothing to drown out her calls.
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I am baking banana bread today. I may not get any NaNo writing done, because I'm in a slump, but my house will smell of baked goods, and that's a fine thing.
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The little bird is outside my window again. It flutters up the glass and drops away, pipping the whole time. I think I'll go fill the feeder.