The sound of silence

I’m fascinated by the capacity which the sound of silence has to be deafening.

I’m a city dweller, and have been so for pretty much most of my life. I recently went on a camping holiday that was quite literally in the middle of nowhere (in middle England). The stillness at night was a true wonder to behold.

The lack of police sirens, drunken party goers, repetitive drum beats, rolling rubbish bins, and other familiar urban noise was conspicuous. To actually hear trees rustling in a gentle breeze is something I only read about in period drama books, or that I last remember hearing as a young child.

Of course, like most things, there is a down-side to the beauty of such silence when on a campsite. The sheer lack of any noise meant that I was subjected to moans from the neighbouring tent as they got down to business, which subsequently put me off engaging in any such activity with my beloved (much to his disappointment). This lead to a period of persuasion on his part, refusal on mine, and the consequent exchange that ensued managed to do away with any silence that our fellow campers may have been enjoying.

So much for silence!!!