Photo: L. Weikel
Quiet
The wet wool blanket mugginess of the day most definitely influenced the timing of our walk today. There was no way I was interested in stepping foot anywhere while the sun beat down on us. Eventually, of course, every sun must set, and lucky for us, we no longer had to dodge the raindrops. We could walk in peace and quiet.
We’ve noticed dramatically fewer planes in the sky lately. And it’s a blessing when we walk and managed to avoid encountering any cars. A blessing and an experience that’s rarer and rarer.
As we rounded the last few corners on our trek today, we noticed how much quieter everything is right now. Even the insects sound diminished – almost as if they’re whispering.
Quiet is Disappearing
The eerie silence of our walk this evening (especially the insects seeming to hush themselves) made me think about an article I’d read recently that I wanted to share with you. It’s on the art of listening to silence, which some of you might know is a particular delight of mine.
Reading this reminded me of just how precious and rare it is to be able to find anywhere where we can ‘be’ and not hear one single human-made noise.
This is seriously tragic.
Quiet Parks International
One of the heartening discoveries I made in the article I linked above is the fact that there is an organization dedicated to encouraging parks to become ‘quiet parks.’ What a gift to the world!
Just for curiosity’s sake, I challenge you to spend some time outside and notice whether you can ever actually achieve some moments without even the smallest human-generated sound tickles your eardrums.
It’s a real ear-opener.
Rawr (chomp chomp)- Photo: L. Weikel
(T-503)