A Time for Contemplation
It has been a quiet day. The skies have been grey. The streets have been quiet. It felt like a winter weekend and not the start of the week. I lingered in my bedroom, curled up in my old, tired chair, with my toes tucked underneath me, cozily wrapped in a blanket around me. I did not go downstairs for my habitual cup of tea. I just leaned my head back, with my eyes shut. In my mind, I wandered through the winding paths of my memories. I am having a pensive afternoon. Perhaps it is because of the day, or maybe it is the classical station. It is as if they could sense my mood. The radio has been playing all my favourite pieces. The music tugs poignantly at my heartstrings. Its beauty, on this grey cloudy day, makes me want to weep in melancholic yet joyous bewilderment. It drags me back through the years gone by and all that I experienced as I trudged along the well-trodden paths of my life. As I look out of the window, I see the grey skies of the fading day slowly transformed into dusk. Behind the quiet homes and the trees that surround them, I see the weak sun slowly sinks into the horizon. A violin inside my radio plucks its strings in sad farewell to the day. I do not recognize the piece, but I am sure it is a Russian piece. It is so haunting and so beautiful that I cannot help but shed a tear or two. In life, there are so many phases we go through. I am now in the quiet stage. It is a time to sit back and contemplate. As I gaze out once more, the sky grows dark. I can barely see the outline of the naked branches. Except for my radio, all is still. Silence echoes throughout the nooks and crannies of this abode. Another day is done. In another lifetime, my family would have gathered around the table to eat the evening meal that I lovingly prepared for them. We would all look forward to recounting the events of our day. In my mind’s eye, as we gathered around that table, I hear the sound of laughter and animated conversations. I smile fondly at that dear memory. It is dark now. I get up to draw the curtains. I pour myself a cup of tea and once more, sit down to listen to the soothing music as I pensively sip my tea. Yes, another day has just slipped into night. Another day is about to become a memory…