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Babbling Brook…

Coffee-iconThe wind changed direction yesterday and what was a northern deep freeze, became a southern heat wave. I have noticed that weather is reliant on many things, but the most important issue here in Russia is the direction the wind blows. It basically flows from the north or from the south and according to that, is the temperature. Therefore it has become warm for us here and all the snow is melting. It will be short lived and the deep freeze will be back, but with the warmth, came a beautiful noise this morning…

I stepped outside with Boza at 4:30 a.m. and I heard a babbling brook. Now I do not live near a brook or creek and it struck me as odd. The wind was soft and from the south and the snow was almost gone. I stood and sipped my coffee, as Boza ran to get his ball. When I stop in the yard too long, Boza gets worried that I might steal his ball and he goes to guard it! 😉 Poor little guy…

I was not thinking about stealing his ball, but I was thinking how beautiful the noise was of a perfect babbling brook right near our front fence. I realized that it had to be the melt-off running down the road. Though I normally never hear such a sound as this perfect. I had the flash light and investigated. I found that the road was still icy, but water was steaming down the hill on the ice. The water talked all the way down the hill as it meandered down the ruts in the road…

I stood mesmerized by the sound, as I turned off the flash light and closed my eyes. I allowed my imagination to take over and remembered when I was about 7 years old, deep in the woods in my native Missouri. I could remember the sharp odor of the cedar trees which were so abundant and the screaming of the Blue Jays. I was hunting with my BB gun and came upon a babbling brook. The same noise I heard then as I heard now. The brook ran over rocks and the ice acted to create the same sound as then, when I was little…

Boza stood next to me and listen also. I am not sure what he heard, but if his daddy is listening, then he knows to listen also. We stood and I remembered my buddy then, a female mutt named Gidget. Gidget hunted with me and she sat with me as we watched the brook babble and twigs and leaves hurried along as they went to another world away from our sight. Gidget was much like Boza…

What a beautiful sound this morning!

Have a nice day and may you find that babbling brook to listen to also…

Kyle Keeton
Windows to Russia (WtR)

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