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We’re so noisy as a people. In a house, in a group, in a neighborhood, in a city so much noise. Our ears and minds are inundated, bombarded, swamped. There’s a fan, a furnace, a television, a car door, a highway, a plane, a stereo, a dog. It’s not natural these noises. It’s invasive, obtrusive, foreign, manufactured. When taken away there’s anxiety, unrest, panic, insomnia.

When at a distance from people and places there’s a noticeable silence. There’s a feeling of solitude and disquiet at first. After a moment there’s a feeling of joy, something found, a connection to something bigger. A moment longer and your mind and body are at ease and closer to the world. You hear new things. There’s tiny birds with funny names rustling in the dead leaves. Old trees seem to talk with strange creaks and groans. Farther in the distance beyond sight a reminder is blown from a train that you aren’t alone in the world. Out and away from the people things and the infernal noises they make is a place of peace and something near quiet. There’s noises but they speak of something else. They speak of something forgotten, they speak of something that needs to be heard, they speak of something that we truly are, they speak of something we truly belong to.

The little noises from far away places are ancient and wise. They aren’t loud like things people made. They speak in the hushed tones of a wider world to the quiet observer. They are the noises of something close to heaven. If you want to listen, just leave for a little while our infernal noises. Take a trip to a far away place and just quietly listen.

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