It’s beginning to look a lot like — winter. Standing at the kitchen window as I mindlessly wash my favorite flower-painted mixing bowl that I refuse to put in the dishwasher, I can’t help but notice that the trees are empty now.

While they are void of color and leaves, they still hold the dozens of crows or blackbirds that have taken up refuge there against the wind. Speaking of that wind, it’s been howling for days. Not just a slight gust here and there, but those pesky, loud swirling blasts of cold air that rattle and toss the garbage cans around outside.

They make it impossible to hang holiday decor outside. I worry for my neighbors’ blow-up Santas and reindeer that have taken up residence in their yards. I expect to see Santa flying through the air and being chased by Rudolph and gang before Dec. 24.

Winter can be a lonely time. The weather forces us inside and requires us to turn on a few more lights earlier each day. Darkness becomes a steady unwanted companion. We lose sight of our friends and neighbors with whom we would sit outside and enjoy their friendship during the warmth of late summer evenings.

It’s understandable. Everyone is busy as the holidays approach and wish lists are being secured.

It’s when we must abandon the lawn chairs and take to the comfort of our favorite arm chairs that the season takes full effect. I miss the open windows and the softer, warm breezes. Gone are the sounds of the night birds as they take to their nests. Even the loud voices of the coyotes are muffled behind closed and curtained windows.

There are different sounds now. The sky above us is abuzz with fledging air pilots learning their skills thanks to the pilot program being administered out of the Wheeling-Ohio County Airport just beyond our home. It’s amazing how many planes traverse their chosen path around our valley. It’s nice to know that perhaps one day, the young man or woman practicing over our home will someday pilot a plane that will take us to some far off destination.

When the night does turn quiet and the planes are securely returned to their parking spots, there is just enough lull in the wind to catch one last sound before I fall asleep. I heard the faint call of an owl in the trees behind the back of the house. How I wish I could catch a glimpse of such a wonder of nature. Until then, I am happy to have him sing me to sleep. Good night.

Heather Ziegler can be reached online at hziegler@theintelligencer.net.