Wednesday, December 30, 2009


Here I sit in my darkened living room. It's chilly here and I have a soft plaid lap blanket across my legs. I'm comfortable. The TV isn't on and the sound I hear is the clicking as my fingertips dance over the keyboard on my laptop as I write this. Occasionally a car passes by on the street out front and I can hear the muffled sound of wind meeting the car or truck; a swooshing sound without the sound of an engine to interrupt and the sound of tires on solid surface. If I listen closely, the far off sound of a jet engine propelling a plane toward the airport reports it's passage. The moments of silence between these outside sounds is valued. Sometimes I quit typing to just listen. I'm listening to the sounds of silence and it's beautiful. As I listen I realize that the silence isn't silent. I can hear the refridgerator humming and as soon as the temperatures dip below the preset on the thermostat, the furnace will click and begin to deliver the warm air into this winter morning. Silence? I think not. It was just an illusion. Though the TV isn't beaming forth entertainment and information or sound, there are still other sounds that intrude if you listen closely enough. Maybe not having any sounds would be too disturbing. The comfort sounds that are buried beneath Televisions and radios and toys and people are there. I'm listening to them now.

It's still dusky looking out my window to the right of me. I can peek around the lamp sitting on the end table and see the wet pavement and the barely lit sky. It looks cold and quiet. No early morning joggers or walkers can be seen. The weather might be making them rethink their exercise program or maybe they have already come and gone. Gone back to their houses to dress and report to the jobs that supply them with their cars, homes and food.
Do I really want to blast into this semi silence with some early morning news from the TV? Carrie will awake soon and the sounds she brings into my day will bury the quietness until she either sleeps again or goes home and takes all her unquiet like ways with her.
I'm off to get another cup of coffee and sit quietly for a while.


  1. Ann you have a gift for writing. Have you ever thought of writing a novel? I would buy it.

  2. Buffalo: Thanks!

    Joan: Sometimes I bore myself to tears reading my blog; I wouldn't foist that on anyone but thank you so much for the compliment!

    Elroy: HUH???


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