Wednesday, January 16, 2008

We have sought a place of quietness
resting mind, body, and spirit.
Relative solitude.
Separation from business and busyness.

Quietness opens a door for other sounds -
I hear the hum that rises and settles as the wind works its music in the multiple reeds and strings made up of leaves and branches and wires around me.
I hear the sound before feeling the breeze.
Bird sounds come and go: some bright and clear, and others soft and almost incidental.
A buzzing insect, a mosquito's whine, the croaking of frogs, and even the harsh flapping of a piece of corrugated iron that has come loose on the roof of the old shed - these are players in the orchestra of quietude.
These are the sounds I am hearing.

J Johnston. 5 January 2007
[This little piece was written a year ago, when we were having a holiday in Roma, Queensland.]

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