Cliff once told the story of the time he was in college and took part in a 750 voice choral and orchestra presentation of Handel’s Messiah. He said he was pretty sure there were a few measures during the Hallelujah Chorus when all he could do was just stand there and listen. I can only imagine how all that magnificent music sounded from within.
I went out around 5:30 this frigid morning (it was only -3 today at 5:30) to feed the horses, muck their stalls and de-ice their water. I’ve been doing this 5 times a day and twice a night since Wednesday and have yet to see or hear any traffic either on our road, which is drifted shut, or on the paved road ½ mile away, which is also drifted shut, right at our corner. (Yes, directions to our house include the phrase, “Turn off the blacktop…”) The only sounds that I’ve encountered on these adventures through the storm to the barn have been howling winds and the crunching of my boots on the show.
On my way back to the house, much to my surprise and delight, I heard the sound of a snow plow off in the distance. He was so far away I couldn’t even see his familiar flashing lights. But I could clearly hear the sound of his blade scraping on the pavement and the “beep beep beep” when ever he had to back up. All I could do was just stand there and listen… while the opening measures of the Hallelujah Chorus began to run through my head. The music, however, faded away when I realized the snow plow was moving away from me.