Live Silence

This was an incredibly busy week.  Mom and Dad were down to help build their storage shed/camping shelter, and from day one the work was literally dawn to dusk.  I primarily cooked and shuttled food from one spot to another, gratefully (for a change of pace) leaving the heavy building to the "menfolk".  It was a wonderful week and Mom and I had more time to talk than we have in years!

The View (considerably better than the tv show)

Digging foundation holes.

Finishing up the floor.

Mom getting sideways with the wall.

Three walls to go.

Almost there.

The sexiest builder around.

Evenings were delightful.  In the cool of the gathering dusk, after everyone had bathed, sitting around the fire or in our living room chatting about the day past and the plans for the next day were good times.  That, as a matter of fact, is when it happened. 



In the middle of the week during one of those lovely evening chats, there was a lull in the conversation.  The space was filled in immediately with the songs of birds, the constant trill of cicadas and spring peepers, and the quiet swish of the evening breeze flowing through the trees.  Someone piped up softly and said, "Listen, it's dead quiet."  And Micah replied, "No, listen to the live silence."  We all stopped again and let that live silence fill us up.

I may never listen to the sunset the same again.