Musing

today’s Musing written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park

-2C/29F, calm, quiet horizon gave birth to brilliant quiet morn under an empty sky, 10 geese sat silently at the centre of the lagoon awaiting an opening in the ice like early shoppers awaiting a store opening; Gusta’s frenetic sniffing vigor perhaps signals an end to her cycle – lethargic, bloated, moody – suffering in silence

I had a quiet night, late night, a silent night; silence, often mistaken for quiet - absence of sound far less than it is the absence of communication - you know, ‘he fell silent’ or ‘dropped out of touch’ - silence is not a long pause in conversation, silence does not interrupt, does not run on and on unless it becomes endless silence in which case it is both less and the end

on the other hand, silence – that blunt instrument - can be cold and hard like a cold-tunnel barrier between people, between ideas; to inspire conformity, to make the air still – to remove the noise, to extract the clatter, to make it quiet, scolding mother or haughty librarian utters a quick sshhh- sometimes, so does life

often I fall into silence with people where silence is the opposite of the message I would send if I could send a message; I get busy – often too busy to stay in touch with old friends because we are too busy making new ones or something else distracts; silence can be funny – at least no one worries about saying something wrong when they are silent; silence - serious contemplation, or grave reservation - not the language of the joyous, silence is not an expression of enthusiasm, does not lift, elevate or inspire

at midnight I watched a retrospective on Norman Mailer; awesome talent, enigma, tour de force or force of nature – a life ended at 81 due to kidney failure the other day – his 6 wives, 9 children, 2 Pulitzers, 30 books – wow, what an incredible journey of words and living, followed now by his silence – fallen silent, a long pause at the end, ended

silence can be touching, but it does not touch – it can spell tranquility, can mean something monumental, can mean nothing, can warn of bad things about to happen – or can be the vacuum immediately after; noise brakes quiet, wakes it, quakes it - breaks that silence, shatters it

pre-dawn stars were silent – so too my waking horizon, leafless trees, cold grass, icy lid of the lagoon – all silent, not a sound, not a word, I did not invite it any more than I invited the noise that shatters this tranquil start to the day

silence, soft pause, can be warmly broken – morning silence should be softly snapped, caressed toward sound, nuzzled to noise - when fasting is broken we do it with a meal, when coldness is broken we do it best with a touch, when silence is broken we do it best with a soft word following a silent night

Mark Kolke
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