There’s a special stillness and quiet of a Sunday morning that doesn’t exist on other days.  Perhaps most people are slowly easing into the day.  The sound of commuter traffic is not to be heard, the air is still as the wind hasn’t picked up yet, and the landscape becomes peaceful and meditative.  I headed over to Como Park early this morning.  After a light snowfall yesterday and another dusting during the night, the snow was once again white and clean.  The footsteps of walkers and the tracks of snowshoes had been covered.  There was a bird that had awakened on the other side of the park, and his call was soft but not disturbing, as if he too had only just awakened.  This bench had been decorated with the fresh snow, and it seemed to invite anyone who was willing to climb up and over the piles of snow by the side of the road to come sit for a while and enjoy the quiet and the beauty of this early morning time.

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