A Quiet Brook at Winter Solstice

Daisy:   Do you ever watch for the longest day of the year and then miss it?

Jay Gatsby:  Don’t you mean the shortest day of the year, Daisy?

Daisy:   Jay, I’m p-p-paralyzed with happiness that the days will be getting longer now. (a few liberties taken with Great Gatsby)

Bold Winds Speechless

But, as we often see against some storm
A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still
The bold winds speechless, and the orb below
As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder
Doth rend the region.
—William Shakespeare, Hamlet

Summer storms in Michigan approach “anon the thunder.”