Stop and Listen

Our apartment is a football field away from a major highway and you can hear it even with the windows closed. This afternoon, we visited my grandparents-in-laws farm in the country. As soon as you cut the engine on your car and step out, there’s a welcome silence. Not utter silence but a mechanical silence. You can’t hear the speed of humanity. Instead, you hear the moment.

The trill of birdsong cutting through the rustling trees in the bustling wind. Distant, echoing gun shots from turkey hunters frame the crack and thump of wood being stacked. The hoof clack of an impatient horse tapping the metal gate, knowing crunchy vegetables have arrive. The cries of a newborn kitten for it’s mother from a rusted milk can. The “zzzzzt kerplunk” of a fishing pole being cast into a secluded pond. It’s easy to miss these little sounds when rushing from one place to the next.

Take a few moments and pretend you’re there. Away from everything. I wasn’t able to capture it all but take a snippet.