It's totally quiet here today at the farm...I'm here alone (after going out earlier to have a morning coffee with Samuel, who returned to Marietta yesterday after finishing his last exam). The only sounds I hear are the clicking of the keyboard as I type this and the chimes hanging outside in the crabapple tree as they respond to the breeze that sets them in motion.
Loonis, in her own silently annoying way, stares at me and invites me to play fetch with her yet again, and the dogs sleep soundly outside my bedroom door. Our communication today is totally non-verbal, especially since I have the best case of laryngitis I think I've ever had and couldn't talk if I wanted to.
I've tried to mutter a few words a couple of times today...to Samuel at the coffee house....to a salesperson over the phone...to the UPS driver when he dropped off a package. I squeak out some pretty pitiful croaks, and then everyone remarks at how incredibly miserable I sound. Thankfully, I don't feel badly...I just can't talk.
Actually, it's really quite nice to reflect upon silence, be silent, and listen to the silence.... a mystical, contemplative place of solitude and peace to experience...I love it!...I might not even put on any music or turn on TV...I think I'll wrap a few presents and knit, losing myself in each stitch as I watch the dishcloths I'm making take shape. (There may be some inner dialogue and/or expletives if I drop a stitch and can't figure out how to correct my mistake, however!) :0) :0)
So, as the Universe must be directing, I'm not going to speak again today...I'm going to give my obviously inflamed vocal chords a rest, and move within.