Friday, 14 January 2011
A Quiet Life
Sometimes life picks us up and sweeps us along in a clamour of noise, but mostly our days are suspended in silence.
The quiet hangs over our house like a film of mist and the hours are punctuated with simple sounds that are so familiar that I barely notice them at all.
The laptop whirrs contentedly, the dishwasher digests its dirty breakfast, the pram wheels rumble against the road, a tower of blocks tumbles to the floor, a plastic toy bursts the silence with a startlingly garish tune, the heating throbs through the upstairs pipes, a baby squeals and babbles from the floor and my own voice cuts through the quiet, my words falling endlessly on uncomprehending ears.
There will come a day when life is so full of comings and goings, shouts and laughter, chatter and games that the silence of these days will feel as surreal and distant as a dream and I will wonder whether they were really thus at all.
I'll yearn for the calm of these quiet moments and I'll seek solitude and silence as though they're long lost friends.
But for now I sit quietly listening to the self-satisfied humming of the fridge, watching the clock as it ticks soundlessly forwards and wondering how much more quiet I can possibly take before I get up and put on a CD.