Quiet

It’s oh, so … shhhh.

I grew up on a dirt road.

The road had a few other houses but ours was quite isolated. It was surrounded by damp evergreen forest. We carved paths through the trees and spent time with the moss and ferns.

It was quiet. Now and then you’d hear a car off in the distance, driving down the main road that went along the nearby coast.

One day I moved to a city. Then on another day I moved to a bigger city. I slowly forgot what quiet was like.

lengthy pause

At the time I moved, I liked noise. I sought it out. I lived in apartments on busy street corners. I found comfort in constant nearby activity. I welcomed the sound from cars, construction, sirens, and smiling folks at 3am hollering at nothing while passing outside my window on their stumble home.

The city was a great change from the quiet of my early days.

It’s natural to rebel from whatever environment we’re raised in. At least to some extent, everyone seeks out the opposite when they can choose for themselves.

lengthy pause

Recently I found myself alone, outside of a country house that was situated in the middle of a forest several hundred kilometers away from any city. It was down a different dirt road but one not unlike the one I grew up on. It was a beautiful, crisp autumn morning by a lake and it was … quiet.

Except for an occasional car off in the distance, and the sound of leaves falling through the trees, the only sounds were made by me. I moved slowly, purposefully.

I had forgotten what that kind of quiet was like. It was somehow different from the quiet of camping or hiking. It was serene, perhaps because I was in my pyjamas outside of a normal house and had just woken from a normal sleep and had nothing in particular to do that day.

It was nice. So very nice.

medium pause

I mean, I was still surrounded by wilderness so part of me was afraid of being murdered by bears and wolves and moose and lynx and foxes and squirrels and bunnies — any of which could jump out at any time and decide they were having Angus burgers for breakfast — but still.

Hello quiet my old friend.


This post was intended to be the blog equivalent of that quiet. No opinions, no learnings, just words. But if I was to proffer advice, it would be this: seek out some true quiet. Just watch out for the murderous squirrels.