even when it's perfectly quiet, it's not. that's the thing that's too bad about being inside of a house inside of a city.
the garbage truck and the neighbours and the sirens and the lawnmower and the fan and the fly buzzing against the window and the fridge. there's a separate humming sound all the time too, and i don't even know what's making it.
i sometimes wish for the nights when i was 17, and i'd follow gravel roads out to a place where i could barely even see any lights, and lay on the hood of my car in complete, actual silence. i recognized all the constellations, even if i didn't know all of their names, and would try to find them in the freckles on my arms. sometimes i'd have friends with me, but the rule was that no one was allowed to say anything because that would wreck it. one time a few of us drove to the valley at midnight and made spaghetti and meat balls over a campfire and stayed up watching the stars until they were gone.
it's amazing how quiet stars are, how quiet space is. you'd think something that big would make a sound that we could hear from here.
i think people were made for more silence than we get in a day. i know a lot of us are uncomfortable with dead quiet, but i wonder if all those little sounds and big sounds and tv shows and background music and words and creaks and hums contribute to the screws in our necks and shoulders?
8 comments:
This is the thing that perhaps bothers me the most about living in a city. The constant noise, it scares me. I never know where it's coming from.
The other night for the first time in a long time, I drove out to the country to where I used to live. I got out of my car and felt like I was punched in the chest-- the stars and the silence knocked the breath right out of me. And I felt so insignificant and overwhelmed by that that deep dark silence but at the same time I felt peace because the sky made everything seem so much smaller, including everything that had been worrying and weighing me down.
Oh my gosh, before I even saw the Grooveshark widget at the bottom of this post, I was already singing Silence by Blindside!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
oh i love this post. sometimes silence is all i need. i love the quiet morning. because it feel so peaceful
yes. love this. i'm partial to silence. i don't like noise, and i don't like other people's noise. i would love to find a silent spot and just be. with the sky and the stars and a campfire. yes, i would like that a lot. let's trade days.
i do like to have proper silence every so often--when you literally can't hear anything. but i am not sure if it truly exists anymore, well nowhere near where i live :)
Love this. This is one of the many reasons why I adore living rurally and always will. The sounds of the city are awesome for a time, but give me wide open skies and fresh air anytime.
this post was so beautiful, there are so many thoughts here that made me pause and breathe.
i remember when i first moved back from seattle the silence was frightening and unsettling. now when i'm home i walk up and down my street and just soak it in.
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