Colin is exhausted from a busy Friday and Saturday and hasn't made a peep in over an hour. James hit the sack before Colin. I could be sleeping - I should be sleeping - but I can't resist the quiet.
It's quiet...and I can be alone with my thoughts.
It's quiet...and I can read intently.
It's quiet...and I can ponder and formulate my ideas here.
It's quiet...and I can just sit.
There is nothing like the joy I feel from our bustling home: Colin's squeals of laughter filling the air as James catches up with the bills while I'm trying to make both lunch and dinner at the same time. The phone rings as friends and family stay in touch. There are some TV programs James and I like to enjoy together. And it's a rare moment that music of some sort isn't setting a happy mood.
But right now it's quiet...and I'm enjoying it. I'm exhausted but I can't peel myself away to bed. I want to write, and then read, and then peruse a cookbook for a new meal idea. I want to take a bath or play the piano (if I could play without disturbing the house). I want to start a new project (I have an idea already for Colin's homemade Christmas gift). I want to get a head start on next week's Sunday School readings. I want to sit in my big blue chair with Cleo, our cat, on my lap. I want to stand out on the balcony and stare at the reflection of the moon on the lake. I want to breathe in the cold, refreshing air. I want to stop the clocks and experience the silent energy.
It's quiet...and it's beautiful.