piddling (what a word!) around with a few chores...and heard a sound?
- a dog barking?
- a tree branch creaking?
- An unexpected crash?
Silence after those, is not soothing and restful. It's loud. The silence of being alone. With the unknown.
Okay, you say. How can silence be loud?
I can't explain it. You have to experience it. I think it's more the knowledge that whatever happens (or doesn't), you're there alone. You have to depend on your smarts, your strength, yourself. You're not stupid enough to go bounding outside to see what made the noise (unless...you're already there!). Instead, you hover near a window, straining to see that ghost, that weird peeking Tom, that stranger in the night, that danger. You make sure doors are locked, windows closed, phone is handy. Then you wait. And wait. And wait.
Your imagination is going full tilt ahead. All the scary stories you're ever read, the tales you've heard, come bounding back, crying, "Aha. Aha. We are real."
Yeah, right. It's about that time, I get tired of that dreadful silence and hightail it to bed. If all the things that go bump in the night want to have a heyday, they can do it without me.
I need my rest.
Till next musing day...