Cherry Fivers
Vinciquerra-20161113-Misc-001.jpg

Blog

The Quiet

The first sound I hear in the early morning is the chirping of birds. They sing from the trees in the yard, and from the forests off in the distance. The sun is just barely over the horizon. I make my way silently through the house, padding along the hardwood floors and into the kitchen. I pour myself a coffee and sit by the window. The golden, morning light fills the room. I am surrounded by the quiet.

In the winter, the quiet may induce a sense of desolation and bleakness. But in the summer, there is feeling of an energy yet to begin. The leaves dance in the morning breeze; the birds get louder; and gradually, background noise from the roads and the neighboring yards begins to creep in. By the time I finish my first cup of coffee, the world outside my windows has woken up. The sun begins to shine brighter and the shadows begin to stretch across the ground.

I sit with my feet on the rug, curling my toes against the fibers underfoot. I begin to feel the warming of the house. I read the world news on my tablet and find the contrast of global events, against the serenity of the quiet, disturbing. The cat wanders into the room, glances at me, and then proceeds to go outside. He'll spend the rest of the day hunting in the yard, living his carefree, feline life. I start thinking of the million things I have to do in the day ahead and a mild sense of anxiety washes over me. Upstairs, I hear the patter of little footsteps. Two sets. This will be the end of the quiet. The day is about to begin.

Footnotes: All images, Fujifilm X-Pro2 with Fujinon XF 35mm f/1.4 R