Saturday, March 24, 2012

Into the Quiet

Scintilla Project. Day8. What are your simplest pleasures?
March 22, 6:43am

6:23 ante meridiem per diem

Outside on the cedar bench; my old friend, the cedar bench; the two of us, grayed with age, ready for the rising. Due east, rounding glow starts, across the upper branch valley, beyond the woodfield ridge. In spring, the blush begins in the gap between the tall trees, and each new bud has a song that soon surrounds; maple song starts its chitterchirping, the pines join in with simple rhythm, before the oak arpeggio; every morning tree song sounds like birdvoice, but birds are not yet visible; the crows will be the first to fly and caw the all clear.

From all the way across the valley, fog filled mist moves toward me. Breathing in the cool calm air; deep enough to fill the empty; just enough to last the day.

Within ten minutes, the graffiti of contrails and car horns overwhelms the atmosphere.

The simplest of pleasures, being filled in the quiet unfolding of this day. Not silence; silence is a different pleasure.


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  1. Michael,

    This is absolutely beautiful. I can imagine myself sitting next to you with a cup of tea being completely at peace.

    Thanks for this.


  2. Seriously, were we standing in the same place this morning looking at the same spot in the sky?

    When I opened this post I gasped because for a second I saw my own backyard, a slightly different version of the same picture I posted this morning. And then Twilight Zone music started playing in my ear....

    And the symmetry of this photo, these sentiments, that quiet that is never silence. Yes.


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