Step outside the house, into the forest. Take the uphill path through the woods. Notice the plants to either side: pine trees, oak, poplars, berry bushes, cactus, wildflowers. A flash of movement; a bird or a lizard. Glints of bright color in a tapestry of shaded greens.
At the top of the hill, pause and breathe. Here you can see into the distance: thunderclouds gathering on the horizon, silent for now. Angel wisps of pale cloud overhead, melting and morphing as you watch. Look up at them and turn full circle. See the whole sky.
And listen.
The wind in the pines is all you hear.
Because today there’s no traffic. No planes. No machinery busy making something, or destroying something.
Just the Earth itself. Breathing.
Treasure this moment. There’s no telling how long it will last. Touch the nearest tree branch. Breathe, and paint this feeling into your memory, so that you’ll have it long after it’s gone.
We have been given a gift of Grand Silence. A rare gift; we may not have witnessed its like before. If we are unlucky or unwise, we may never witness it again.
So listen. And breathe.
And remember.
The quiet here in the heart of a city has been both disturbing and wonderful. You expect noise in a city and when it disappears, everything feels off. On the other hand, there is a joy to that silence. It is good to just sit, breathe, and listen to nothing.
With the recent protests against police violence, that silence has been broken by police helicopters. This breach of the silence brings the need for the protests into clearer focus.