Let me tell you something. If you live in a city, or even in a town, you do not know silence. Here in Walberswick, at the end of two miles of road leading nowhere but here, silence means SILENCE. It's so loud you can hear your ears, as Herself put it the other day. I've never heard my blood pulsing round my body before, but I'd better get used to it. The cooing of the wood pigeons is loud here, and the magpies do actually sound like machine guns. (They don't really, but it's quite a funny thought)
The other thing that's remarkable, in the old-fashioned and therefore best sense of that word, is the quality of the night sky. I'm going to have to get a book or something because every night, there they are. Twinkling away, perfectly visible, even milky in parts. Beautiful isn't the word. It's breathtaking.
If it wasn't so bloomin' cold all of a sudden I could lie on my back on the grass, looking at the stars, with nothing but the hooting of the owls and the beating of my heart to disturb me.
No comments:
Post a Comment