Somewhere Quiet.

There is something uncanny or foreign about true natural silence the first time one hears it. I live in a quiet place in the valleys of South Wales but even there I hear the sounds of life, of dogs barking, the train passing through the station late in the evening, but here in the Hebrides when the wind drops and the sun shines, there is no sound, not the waves nor the branches move. There is movement, the clouds drift across the mountain tops and the breeze disturbs the surface of the sea but there is no sound. Sail is preferable to engine in the lochs.

Later the Goldfinches will gather in the tree beside the cottage and kick up a racket declaring their ownership of end of season fruits, but until then there is only me, an alien in a land of eerie silence.

It’s a good place to write and drink coffee, a good place to let the stresses of life wash off down into the shiny, wet grass, where they belong.

We are not meant to live in constant noise, we should all spend time in nothingness. No wonder we feel messed up. We need to escape the TV, radio, internet, people’s problems, worries and concerns to sit among a natural nothing for a while; look inwards at ourselves and outwards at something beautiful in the world. To give ourselves time to consider whether we are spending too much energy worrying about stuff we cannot fix, problems that are not ours, and issues we can’t change.

I can hear the ferry approaching, it’s an exceedingly small boat and holds about ten cars. It’s still two miles offshore. I swear if church bells rang in Oban, ten miles away, I would hear them.

People can be so adorable when they aren’t constantly under pressure. ‘Chilled’ what a great expression that is. Cool, unperturbed, unphased. Leave it until tomorrow.

Oh, of course I cannot remain here forever, there is stuff to do, things to fix and people to care for, but for today…

Ah! The Goldfinches have arrived.

Who Dares Shares!

Robin Horsfall