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Jun. 13th, 2007 04:44 pmThe main accomplishment of yesterday was going for a walk.
I stepped out just as it started spotting rain. That's my luck right there, I thought, with that kind of shallow despair we reserve for life's tiny, tiny grievances.
I wandered down through the village. Not to those mystery alleys that![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stitchinmyside and inlandsea and I discovered on another walk. Just along the boardwalk, as it were, and then up May Street. The rain had stopped by then.
It was so still. I slowed down, stopped walking. Once, and then again. It was as if the stillness made anything moving want to come to rest. It felt right to stand still, half a block along the road, on the rain-smelling sidewalk. A little dangerous, maybe, as though I could have stood there always. Or until the wind picked up again, if it ever did.
It was almost perfectly silent, except for the birds and birds and birds singing, but that was part of the quiet somehow. It didn't disturb the stillness, but lay under it.
I went as far as the graveyard and then down to the water. The ocean was as still as a lake. Just rilling over the end of the concrete break, infolding over the sides like an envelope. The cars were noisier there, the stillness more difficult to find, but it didn't break. I sat on the hill with the smell of the dry cut grass around me.
A quiet so huge you can't observe it, you can't hold it in your body. You can only relax into it. In that stillness you could meet anything calmly. It's still in the depths of my ears, that quiet.
{rf}
I stepped out just as it started spotting rain. That's my luck right there, I thought, with that kind of shallow despair we reserve for life's tiny, tiny grievances.
I wandered down through the village. Not to those mystery alleys that
stitchinmyside and inlandsea and I discovered on another walk. Just along the boardwalk, as it were, and then up May Street. The rain had stopped by then.It was so still. I slowed down, stopped walking. Once, and then again. It was as if the stillness made anything moving want to come to rest. It felt right to stand still, half a block along the road, on the rain-smelling sidewalk. A little dangerous, maybe, as though I could have stood there always. Or until the wind picked up again, if it ever did.
It was almost perfectly silent, except for the birds and birds and birds singing, but that was part of the quiet somehow. It didn't disturb the stillness, but lay under it.
I went as far as the graveyard and then down to the water. The ocean was as still as a lake. Just rilling over the end of the concrete break, infolding over the sides like an envelope. The cars were noisier there, the stillness more difficult to find, but it didn't break. I sat on the hill with the smell of the dry cut grass around me.
A quiet so huge you can't observe it, you can't hold it in your body. You can only relax into it. In that stillness you could meet anything calmly. It's still in the depths of my ears, that quiet.
{rf}
