I am sitting in a gazebo by a lake at the motel we stay when we are on our annual holiday to Stratford. The “Writer” in me exclaims “What a lovely place to sit and write something profound!” Actually I am doing something prosaic: I am on-line checking on work, writing progress notes, and signing prescriptions. This isn’t as shocking as it sounds. It is mindless busy work and the ‘zen’ of the location makes it no matter.
There is no blatant sound other than the chirping of birds and a cheeping of a nearby cricket. In the distance I hear hikers, a man and a woman, chatting to each other. Only this morning we were struggling traffic to get out of Toronto. The contrast is remarkable.
Quiet is a rare event. I don’t find it often. To be truthful, I don’t make it or seek it out as I could. It’s too bad, for Quiet is a marvelous tonic. Nowadays, Quiet gets bad press. Often it is called ‘Dead Air’ or taken as a sign something is wrong “Why don’t you say something? Is something the matter?”.
When I have Quiet I often merely fall asleep, which is OK but I miss its lovely paradox of being alert yet at ease. Quiet should not be a once in a while treat, something I allow myself when on vacation. Quiet is not dessert, but as vital as water and air.
Sometimes I worry I am of the last generation to know Quiet. I see no evidence Youth ever experience or even know about it (plugged into their ipods and iphones as they are from the get-go).
If it isn’t too cold or too buggy this evening, I will return to this gazebo. The owner of the motel often makes a fire in the nearby pit. I will have the extra joy of Quiet in front of a crackling fire. It is no wonder Milton once described Heaven as a region –
“That which is not Music is Silence”.
14 comments
August 14, 2012 at 11:41 AM
Jay
Quiet is wonderful. I sometimes shut the radio off in the car and just drive without having anything on. It gives my inner dialogue a chance to get more creative. Wonderful feeling. Enjoy your lake…
August 14, 2012 at 12:13 PM
anne marie in philly
I love quiet time; it refreshes my soul.
August 14, 2012 at 12:43 PM
wfregosi
I most notice — and resent — the current plague of noise in restaurants. I hate having to scream across the table to be heard and there have been some places I’ve had to eat where that was the only way to have a “conversation” or to order a meal. I read an article that said a great many modern restaurants are being built with no sound-absorptive materials because “the kids” love the constant roar around them — as you say, they’ve never known quiet — and get very nervous when not being constantly assaulted by sound.
August 14, 2012 at 5:21 PM
Laurent
What a lovely photo. Isn’t quiet nice.
August 14, 2012 at 8:29 PM
Geoffrey
I’m looking forward to quiet.
August 14, 2012 at 9:21 PM
Erik Rubright
“That which is not Music is Silence”. But can’t silence be music unto itself?
I would have to say I’m probably the “next generation”. If there is not a constant hum going on, I feel like something is wrong in the universe. Even white noise is more comforting than “no” noise.
August 15, 2012 at 12:22 AM
Raybeard
When I was a teenager I’d planned, with three school chums, to do one of the classic English hikes, ‘The Lyke Wake Walk’, 40 miles over the North Yorkshire Moors. We did a ‘practice’ 25 miles the previous week, during which one of the others said “This is SO boring! I’m going to bring a portable transistor next time!” I remained silent and horrified. The very thought of pop music blasting out over the wild, beautifully bleak countryside was just too ugly to think about. I didn’t join them.
August 15, 2012 at 4:59 AM
Tony Davis
i have found that i don’t often “explore” silence unless it is forced upon me–meaning that something breaks or is disconnected. and at these times, i marvel at the silence. one time when i had a car, years ago, the radio broke, and i never replaced it. the silence was fantastic compared to the ads and trying to change stations. i also fear that the younguns will never appreciate this–that silence for them will only trigger anxiety. sigh.
August 15, 2012 at 7:53 AM
Ron
I have also grown to appreciate Quiet. A long time ago I almost always had music blasting through the house. Now days I just like quiet, which I get quite often. I am glad you’re enjoying your sojourn.
August 15, 2012 at 12:23 PM
Old Lurker
… but when we are Quiet on your blog, you feel neglected!
I am happy you are enjoying the peace, though. I find working outside
much more restful than the office, too.
August 16, 2012 at 3:35 PM
Shawn
“Sounds” wonderful!
August 17, 2012 at 10:26 AM
Raybob
Sounds lovely. @Eric: yes, sometimes silence *is* the best music. Or at least, when there is silence, you can hear the Oran Mor better.
August 19, 2012 at 4:09 PM
Donald
Idyllic spot. Thanks for that photo.
August 20, 2012 at 12:18 PM
DougT
One of my favorite places to experience quiet is the desert. One of the things that I love about the desert is the profound silence. Kind of circular reasoning, but I don’t care.