I suppose partly in response to my last post and the idea that goes with it that I am wholly at home with the Whisper of running streams and the immense depth I want to record some of the things I observed in my “quiet time” today:
- An earworm of the Queen of the Night’s aria, left over from a detective drama I watched;
- An urge to get up and feed the chickens;
- The need to revisit my marking;
- Where I can get peppers for roasting for tea tonight;
- How Maggie’s meeting is going and whether she will bring home any Pfeffernüsse;
- How I would respond to a tweet about ad orientem Eucharists;
- Why I should take a photocopy of Sunday’s Introit and see if my voice can carry it after my sore throat;
- How Ro’s throat is today, and how my children and my mates are getting on;
- Whether my bus pass has run out;
- How nice the silence is;
- Whether I could make a blog post out of my distractions.
After noise, silence that you can drink;
the clock resumes its syllable,
light is once again important,
and thoughts scatter in their errands
leaving the house less cluttered .
Silence runs to reach a level,
a still dark pool beyond the day’s rapid.
nicktomjoe 