Sound

Blakey 8Outside, this past weekend at my in-laws’ house in St. Louis, I walked into leaves and then stopped, listening to all of the nothing around me.  They live in a wooded area, their house built into the side of large hill.  There’s not much that needs attention, much upkeep–the land conserves its own impression.  The house is in a valley and tall trees make noise with the wind.  In the pause it’s very quiet and there’s something odd that happens in listening intently, not waiting to hear something but focusing on what’s in between.  Eventually, the wind rushes up and limbs creak, a squirrel springs along, twigs roll.  Then, again, quiet.

As the season changes here in the Midwest, as continue reading…