Chin in hand, my fingers curl over my mouth and I wait. I look out the large window into a yellowish field and webbed tree line, watch crows fly overhead until they pass my sightline. I wait while the heavy grey clouds above race past the hills that lay out to the north. The only sounds I hear are the skittering of the Asian ladybugs landing on my stockpile of books, electronic toys and art materials. The scent of sandalwood smoke fills the space to help with the odor that the ladybugs leave behind. I wait for the voices to gather up but all I hear is silence and it’s deafening. This quiet time alone without my usual distractions makes me tremble inside. So I watch the naked tree branches sway with each gust of wind that blows through the landscape. I watch the clouds roll and skim and glide by and I wait for the stories to unfold.
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