Today is still. Today is also dark. My house is quiet. The dogs are having their morning naps each on one side of me on the couch. Nothing is moving outside. Even the leaves are still. Last night was downright cold, but the morning is in the 50’s, typical for November here on the cape. The paper says rain for later.

When I was a kid, the weather was never really important to me except for snow and the possibility of a snow day. When it rained, I’d get wet on the walk to school. There was no way around it. I’d dry during the day but get wet again on the walk home. On cold days we’d be bundled. My mother always made sure we were in layers. I’d wear my mittens but balk at a hat. My mother always insisted so I’d wear it until I was out of sight. We used to pretend to be smoking when steam came out of our mouths on the coldest days. We’d hold something between our fingers as if it were a cigarette. It always made us seem elegant, not a word we knew but a feeling we had.

On one trip to Europe, my sister joined my mother, father and me. We flew into Brussels. We picked up our rental car and drove into the city to try and find our hotel. My father drove. I gave him directions. He was nervous and kept questioning me. I knew the hotel was in the center of the city so I had him follow the centro signs. He wasn’t happy. It was serendipity when he took a suggested turn, and there it was, the Hotel Amigo, within sight of the Grand Place. It was a beautiful hotel, the sort where they fold your pajamas and put them on the pillow next to the nightly chocolates. Our rooms were huge. The bar was perfect for a drink after a day of wandering.

After we left the city, we rode around and happened to find WWII sites. My father, a WWII vet, was delighted by our travels through history. He gave us a commentary. I remember all the Malmedy signs. Each time we saw one my father mentioned the massacre there during the Battle of the Bulge. We saw tank traps looking like teeth in the Ardennes forest. We were the only car on the road. My mother said we could be in Twilight Zone episode with Germans attacking. My dad asked for a picture of the tank traps. I went into the forest. I didn’t realize the ground was thick with mud. It sucked up both my shoes. I pulled them out and carried them on my walk back to the car. My socks later got tossed into the trash. My father loved the picture and laughed at the story behind it.