I overlooked the silence for most of the walk. Somewhere along the way, I started to listen. Nylon rubbing against nylon as I swung my arms. Alternate audio threads playing simultaneously were heavy breathing (mine) as rhythmic as the snow crunching under the weight of my feet. Curious. Was it really silent? I stopped. All I could hear was a high pitched hum, I believe the pulsing of blood coursing through my body. Alone in the woods I confirmed silence-the absence of sound. Until, I came upon a stream; the slow moving water made a trickling sound. Ordinarily overlooked as it was so soft, it was heard and acknowledged. The silence is what ushered in the whispers.
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