The sound of silence

A ski in the National Forest near my home today was refreshing, renewing, uplifting and serene. I stopped to take out my camera and was stunned by the silence. The really quiet, still kind of silence that one hears after a heavy snow when there are no birds singing, no leaves rustling, no breeze blowing. I just stood there and soaked it all up. Macy gets anxious when I stop moving, so after a while she started whining and looking at me like, "Are you okay?? Why have you stopped? Come on, come on, come on, let's keep moving!" But until I was prodded out of my peace zone, I was so happy to be in complete stillness. Life is good, but work is uncomfortable this year for a variety of reasons that I won't complain about here. My work is, by nature, a very noisy place. I sing or speak all day long, I hear and compete with the voices of rowdy middle-schoolers, I play a very loud piano, band rehearsal sound seeps through the wall, trumpets and saxes bray all day in the practice rooms next to my classroom and loud bells and announcements are broadcast at regular intervals-ALL DAY LONG. By the end of a long day of teaching and then running a variety of rehearsals, my nerves are fried. Coming home to my quiet house is like a heavenly refuge, a healing peace.

So the few moments of true silence today were like a balm. I needed more, but my stomach was telling me it was lunch time, my dog was telling me to keep moving and my conscience was telling me that I have a lot of school work to get to before tomorrow's Monday dawns. 3 more weeks until winter break. But who's counting?