Sounds of Silence...

  Sounds of Silence…
Noise. It’s everywhere.
Streets resound with the roar of engines, the clamour of voices, the shuffle and stomp of a million feet,  the blare of music, the cacophony of it all, with each constituent raised and strained to make itself heard above the rest.
We think we’ve adjusted to it. We haven’t. Emerging research consigns noise to the higher ranking pollutants.
Noise distracts the mind, grates on the nerves, disrupts our natural inclinations of rest, sleep, digestion.
Noise is an assault on the human. It’s a paradox. We’re also addicted to it. The still of night can be unsettling, our thoughts surface and become apparent. But we’ve become accustomed to being camouflaged by noise. We need our fix.
We’ve learned to shun the very element of peace, tranquillity, the very thing that allows us to rest, relax, and ultimately repair ourselves; silence.
Not long ago, on a night in Kilmore quay, in County Wexford, I was reminded of that golden quality of silence.
Awakening at an early hour, I was reacquainted with the quality of silence by the feint cry of a drifting seagull, the swish and the splash of the tyres of a passing car on the wet road, the distant rustle and rush of the Atlantic landing on the Burrow Beach, a man’s voice addressing someone down the pier; the merciful, divine sounds of silence.
PS...The photo above was taken around that time. the white house on the right was where I spent the first eight years of my life, 1944-1952.