Is the silence ever silent?

After some very interesting (but quite heavy) screen time this afternoon I took myself to sit outside for a short break.

Today is a day of transition; a windy day after rather too much heat which has browned the grass and seen clover shoot up where it wasn’t before.

As I laid back and closed my eyes I concentrated on my breathing. There is some tension there, my neck hurts a little. I started to ground and tune into what I could hear.

One of my favourite sounds, the rustling of leaves, is louder today. I can almost hear them groan in the recognition of the wind pressing against them. I hear aeroplanes today - probably whisking people away to breaks much anticipated. I wonder if there is any tension in the air? Are the passports packed safely? Do you really need that gin and tonic?

I notice my mind has wandered from the sound. If often does; it is what the mind does after all when we slow the body down. I listen again. The leaves are definitely the loudest sound today. They move around me as if in stereo, as if talking to each other.

The birds are quieter of late and I start to wonder why. Have the young flown the nests already, perhaps it is too difficult to fly? Then I think of how hard that must be, learning to fly as the wood pigeon interrupts my thoughts.

I wonder, is the silence ever really silent?