The Sights of Silence

Mountain Man can tell you I love to talk. Chatter is really the more apt word. Kind of like a magpie who can go on and on and on. When I finally see Mountain Man's eyes glaze over and hear his "Yes Dears" become more frequent then I know I've exhausted even his most patient listening capabilities.

And, my chatter isn't limited to the ever patient Mountain Man. No, I chatter to the dogs, to Khrysta and let's be honest here, even to myself. I have perfected the art of the running conversation needing no audience to cheer me on.

There is a problem with incessant chatter. Lately the words to write have just vanished from my head. No, nothing there at all. I sit down to write every day, fingers poised above the keyboard waiting for some pithy thoughts to spring out of my brain but instead I type banalities worthy only of the delete button. Words are a writer's lifeblood so what happens when a writer can't write? And, why can't I write because I sure can talk? What to do? Where to go?

As I always do when I'm in need of answers, I wandered Red Pine Mountain where we are now awash in the first blush of spring. Perhaps if you've never lived in a harsh winter climate, you don't realize how fleeting spring can be. By the time May rolls around, we who live in this winter pararadise are already marking the days on the calendar until the next snowstorm.

When I began my walk, at first I was my usual chattering self. I stopped to speak to Mountain Man at work on a new project, I spoke to the dogs busy at play in the yard, the snake crawling across my path. Oh, I was as noisy as the blue jays who now surround our feeder. But then, an idea came into my cacophonous brain. What if I just stayed silent? What if not a word escaped my lips nor a trivial thought crossed my mind? What if remained quiet and enjoyed the beauty of God's work in our universe? No songs, no idle chatter to Khrysta. I would have to be silent. Could I do it?

No, it wasn't easy. At first I really struggled. I said one last prayer and gave myself an ultimatum. The time for silence starts NOW. I began my walk again. And, as I allowed myself to be filled with the sights of silence, a most beautiful miracle occurred. God allowed me to see His handiwork all around me in a way I have never experienced it before. There were three nests lined up in the rafters of a lumber shed while two mama robins worked gathering worms nearby, here was a beautiful bud on a tree, there in the pasture was my grazing mare and off in the distance beautiful vistas now turning green.

There is something so profound about silence. It's much more than an empty void of nothingness. But I've been uncomfortable in that void lately and I've rushed to fill it with mindness chatter instead of letting God's spirit fill my life in a meaningful way.

I believe at any given moment in time, we are exactly where we are meant to be. We can stagnate, we can fight, we can chatter the day away aimlessly but if we open our hearts and stand quietly in the majesty of God's creation then maybe, just maybe, the message we need to learn will become clear.


Here are some of the sights of silence on Red Pine Mountain as we enjoy the miracle of spring.






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