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I could be preparing dinner for later, or putting on another load of washing, or packing away the game of connect four that my children left out this morning as they giggled their way to the front door.

But this silence has wooed me with its gentleness…picked me up and settled me softly onto the couch….allowed me the space to think that I was craving.

I could be making the beds, or organising the uniforms for tomorrow, or walking the dog.

But my ears are gratefully absorbing the absence of clatter, my shoulders are relaxing, my breathing is calm.

It’s such a rare thing here, silence. If I move, I’ll break it. Even the cushioned pressing of the keys on my laptop is an intrusion, though I love to feel them sink under my fingers and watch the words appear.

I’m sensitive to noise. Excessive amounts of it, especially the random kind, distresses me for reasons I don’t really understand.

I love the sounds of my family but this silence is such a gift. A rare and beautiful gift.

So..

I could be doing any number of useful and industrious things.

But instead, I’ll sit, curled comfortably, nestled into the warmth of these pillows, laptop balanced on my knees to write, and enjoy the peace.

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