The wind howled last night, rattling the bones of my dreams as the jarring lullaby left my sleep restless and uneasy. Woke to the calm that can only come after a stormy night, that stillness that seems to sit easily on my brow, my eyes soft, the absence of sound palpable. The wind whipped the snow into ice, sheer upon the concrete, my feet sliding through the morning, trackless. No, the tracks are all in the sky today, blue mottling, dizzying shafts of light. I have an instant of vertigo as the lines move in and out of my vision, the quiet pale light barely touching the crystalline blue of the sky. My mind is weary today, spent after a night of wind torn dreams.