inthe_dreaming (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
inthe_dreaming) wrote2011-01-04 05:02 pm
inthe_dreaming) wrote2011-01-04 05:02 pm
Journal Free Write - January 4th, 2011
There is no such thing as a true silence, except within sensory deprivation. There is always some sound, even if it is so commonplace in the background that we now consider it to be among the silence.
The humming of a refrigerator in the middle of the night, the breath of a sleeping lover, the creaks and pops of a settling house, the crackle and snap of a water heater clicking on to heat the water for your morning shower. These all comprise a sort of mundane silence.
The quiet of an early morning (or a very late night) before the sun is even beginning to peek over the horizon, walking in the silence of a sleeping city. The far-off hum of those few cars at such an hour, the barely-audible buzz of streetlamps and a passing neon sign.
These are all the best kinds of not-quite silences, to me.
The humming of a refrigerator in the middle of the night, the breath of a sleeping lover, the creaks and pops of a settling house, the crackle and snap of a water heater clicking on to heat the water for your morning shower. These all comprise a sort of mundane silence.
The quiet of an early morning (or a very late night) before the sun is even beginning to peek over the horizon, walking in the silence of a sleeping city. The far-off hum of those few cars at such an hour, the barely-audible buzz of streetlamps and a passing neon sign.
These are all the best kinds of not-quite silences, to me.