Sounds of Silence

One last (I hope!) comment about hiking in snow. Walking through a foggy forest blanketed in deep snow is an otherworldly experience. There is no color - the background is all whites and soft grays; black trees fade into the fog in all directions. There is no movement. Visually, it invokes thoughts of Grimm Fairy Tales or ancient Viking sagas of a time when few people walked the planet.

But it is the sound that is most profound. Or the lack of sound. It is a deep silence that presses on me like water, so physical that I can almost reach out and grab a handful. In fact, it is a silence that is more than merely lack of sound. It is negative sound. As if the snow and fog pull sound out of the world - a black hole accreting all sound and sending it to another dimension.

I stop and feel the silence of the forest. I close my eyes, slow my breathing, and listen. Then I hear it. The soft thrum of the planet. Maybe the music of the orbs. Quiet waves rolling in and sliding back to some ancient sea. And I realize that the sound I hear is my own - my blood surging through my veins. My own heart pumping life through my body. And for a moment, in the silence, the forest and I are one.

Then I start walking again thinking about camp and hot chocolate and a warm sleeping bag.