silence

Well, we were cast into electronic darkness about 4:15 this morning as someone bashed into a telephone pole and knocked out electricity to roughly half the town. The only alarm clock that went off was the one in the head - the habitual one that is tied to the cat's tail (tale?) and his "feed me now" button.

Instead of that first cup of coffee in front of CNBC or MSNBC it was light a fire and enjoy the silence. Everything was immediately put on hold, this blog, 8 other blogs, tons of webwork to do, code to code even, and everything was impossible.  Think of that. Everything that was supposed to be done was inside a metal box with a normal green light now unlit.

There was a fair wind this morning and easily heard above the silence of a normally electric household now silent.  The fireplace crackled and loud enough one could hear it everywhere as well as the occasional chirp of birds now given an opportunity to be heard above electronic dins.

Some 50 years back, my father bundled up my brother and me and took us to Canada fishing, flying in, the whole deal.  To be honest, my brother and I didn't nor ever get along and 4 days in a cabin and then a boat on a lake with zero other alternatives wasn't what I would call fun.  The lake was pretty big, 40 miles or so long and at that time the only boats on it came from this camp, so maybe 8 total, therefore left pretty much alone. We would motor up about 20 miles to some really rocky points and catch walleyed pike like crazy, put ashore, build a fire and fry a fish or two right there and fish some more and head back to camp for dinner.  If it was still enough (often the case) you could hear the 5pm dinner bell inviting us all back to camp as it would carry across the water for miles and there was no sound - absolutely no sound - other than what you personally made. The silence in our boat was deafening.

This morning was like that to a degree.  What should have been a bustle of coffee pots, scrambled eggs and fingers clicking on a keyboard; Internet radio in the background and shifting around in a chair was replaced by wind in leaf-vacant trees and crackling wood in the fireplace and whatever sound we chose to make.

I can hear that lake to this day. I really can. After a few days of that wilderness silence, the lapping of small waves against the side of the boat, everyone sitting still to begin with so not to scare the fish - as if they had any idea anyway - well, you remember that.  50 years from now I will remember the silence of this morning, so quiet I could hear the cat purr in the other room as he found his spot in front of the crackling fire. .. kinda now wishing the electricity had stayed off for a few more hours.

Same silence.