Silence is to be able to contemplate the small, the tiny, the insignificant, and find the image of its beauty within yourself.
As much as that sounds like a quote from somebody famously enlightened, that just came from me. And I absolutely refuse to carry on the internet tradition of assigning fake quotes to famous names.
Besides, I truly mean it.
I clicked that photo yesterday, just as the sun was coming up on a rare snowy day in the Deep American South. I was enchanted by that flock of clover sticking up from the snow, like nothing could keep it down. It was intent on being a bright burst of color in the white landscape.
There was nobody else out that early, with the temperature in the frigid lower teens (-10°C, for those unfamiliar with the Fahrenheit scale). It was quiet and beautiful. Peacefully serene. I could hear myself think, and that is always a good feeling.
Yesterday wasn’t a particularly great day for me. The cold and frequent fluctuations in the weather had me achy at best, and spasming at worst. But that moment of tranquility, as the sun came up and reflected its colors on the snow, was one to cherish.
That moment was my own bright burst of color for the day. I could feel its beauty and peace. It was my private escape into silence.