Monday, August 1, 2011

Walking Among the Silences

There are many things I don't know how to do, such as poke among the parts of my car and know what's wrong or how to fix it; or, despite coming from a rather musical family, how to play an instrument. I don't know a foreign language even though I made several attempts in junior high, high school and college. I can't tell you a thing about opera, or even find much use for it, even though I want to. I can't construct anything with wood and nails and tools and there were times when I was in the theater and was called upon to help construct sets that I felt like a prima donna when I explained, "I'm an actor; I don't build." I am unable to see the beauty in math and find linear thinking difficult. I do not know many things but I know how to walk.

I know you shouldn't be afraid of being alone among the silences of the world and that sometimes silence can lead to incredible discoveries. Many of the people Duncan and I pass on our walks pack their ears with music from their iPods, drowning out the subtle sounds of the water washing around the floating ducks that line the shore or the secret language of prairie dogs as they bark their warnings across the fields. And then there is the early evening breeze which strokes the yellowing wild hillside grasses, stirring them with its fingers like the strings of a harp, sometimes softly, like a lullaby, and sometimes into the crescendo of a symphony. Others talk on their phones, shattering the silence as they relate––to electronic ghost voices––the gossip and babble of their days, oblivious to the hush of the horizon as it swallows and extinguishes the setting sun. 

When you listen to the silence––when you really hear it––you may just discover there really is no such thing, that silence is the sound of the world turning, that silence can lead you to silver rays of sunlight slipping through peepholes in the clouds, or afternoon pre-storm rainbows or diamonds of water caught in the fragile spinnings of spiders in the grass.



You can only hear the voice of the universe if you tune the sounds of the world down...:)
Lovely thoughts - reminds me of how, as a child, I was entranced by the wind rustling down the valley on our rural farm.
Have a happy day, Curt.

Finn said...

Those are some very beautiful pictures and thoughts!

Boondocks and The Love Shack Pack said...

With four hooman children, three cats, and seven dogs, silence is not something we observe much of. It sure sounds divine though!

Boondocks & The Love Shack Pack

KBL 2 ORD 2 SAN 2 LUV said...

Hello Curt and delectable Duncan...

I want to stop by and write and my heartfelt thanks for your kind comment and your comforting words for my bear Milo. I miss him so.

"The Universe does not create that much love for nothing," is what you wrote. What a beautiful notion. Achilles and Milo came out of separate shelters, to the same rescue, and then into our home. Although they were elderly dogs, they bonded deeply within the first week. If they are not together again, then my faith will be gone and I will have no trouble letting God know it if and when we meet.

I am sending love, warm hugs, and kisses to your Duncan boy today. In rough times with our furbabies, I find comfort in reading about my favorite dogs in Blogistan and seeing their gorgeous pictures. Thank you for sharing Duncan with me, a humble blogger in San Diego.