Shh!
Thursday, February 05, 2009
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A place for Writing 12 students to read each other's writing, to critique, to suggest, to improve.
About Me
- Brad
- Former adult teacher who loves island beaches. Happy homebody and family man; once devoted dog owner, now without Tashi, my Tibetan Terrier. I prefer the absurdity of the imagination to the absurdity of imagining nothing.
13 comments:
Walking around the block this morning with my dog I noticed two quiet things: the sound of the air whooshing through my nostrils and of my pant legs swishing by each other. There were other sounds, of course, but by forcing myself to notice something quieter I brought a laser-like attention to my walk.
this is my online notebook for quiet, i hope u like it...
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Today before I begin to do my homework, I decided to walk to memorial park in Victoria Hill. As I walk to the memorial park, the air was crispy and fresh like the apple. I wanted to capture the air and bring it home.I didn't want to go back to that stuffy room. When I noticed the air was changing like me, I found myself struggling to do homework. . .
The quietest thing I heard this week was both frightening but equally bewildering. Friday night I had gone out with a couple of friends to enjoy a movie. When the movie had ended we all hung out for a short while then parted ways to head home. After I had got off the skytrain to start walking home I went my regular route. I walked around the corner that I always normally do, but this time I had the pleasant surprise of a bike rider pummeling himself (and his bike) into me. He rode straight into me, causing both of us to collapse to the ground in agony. I could feel a sharp pain under my palms and an equally tormenting feeling in my abdomen. What caught me off guard the most though, was the fact I couldn't hear anything. Everything was completely silent aside from the faint sound of my heartbeat. Slowly over the course of thirty seconds things became audible again.
The bike rider and myself both recovered from the impact quickly as he hastily apologized for his stupidity. Nothing was broken thankfully, aside from injured pride.
How I could find a quietest thing and place in such big city, but I found it during prayer time. I was in the sky train, thankfully nobody was speaking. The only sound of the rails and train were breaking the quietness. I closed my eyes and started to speak to my Heavenly Father. The calmness and silence just conquered me such deeply that I cannot describe it. The storm inside me just slept quietly. The silence was surrounded me, and the peace.
Cuddling my lovely little boy on
the bed before he dropped asleep last night, I found two quiet things: the tick of the clock on the wall hurrying me to do my homework and light snoring from the little boy comforting the worry due to the clock. When I left the bed room, I felt the tick was as pleasing as the sweet snoring even though I was annoyed with it several minutes ago.
My Own Morning
Getting up before eight was a quite unusual thing did by me this morning. It was still dark outside after I had my simple breakfast. I picked up my yesterday book and continued. In the other room, my husband was slightly snoring with his rhythms. Outside my windows, the trees were jiving like strippers. The whistles of the wind crushed into the apertures of the windows. The coffee maker sneezed a couple of times but not buzzed yet. Far away in the lobby, I could almost tell people started leaving to their work. Lucky me, enjoyed a comfortable and quite morning when my noisy boy was sleeping.
It is midnight. I’m reading near window.
After a whole day long working, most people are in their sweet dreams. All is quiet. Silence reigns supreme.
Seeing outside, the full-moon hangs on the sky, and some stars shine sparsely. No sound can be heard. I appreciate this quiet and don’t want anything to spoil it.
I like staying alone in quiet. The world seems to be stagnated. The moment is wonderful, and my soul can wander in this tranquil world. I fully enjoy the freedom that I can think everything or nothing.
Time passes. The shade of moonlight moves. I need to go to bed. Few hours later the early birds will out, and a noisy new day begins.
Words: 120
Tuesday night was the quietest night I have ever had at work. When we all finished our work at 9:40, we had nothing to do, so we all went to the lingerie department to help hang clothes properly.
Usually, we talk and laugh when together, but it surprised me to see everybody just grabbing hangers here and there and not even talking about the worse customer they have had that night.
I could even hear the quiet breathing of the girl who stood next to me. I loved that night and wished all my nights at work could be as quiet as that night.
One morning last week I was sitting on a lift chair with my husband. Skiing has never been my passion, even though I skied since young. My husband and 2 boys were crazy about skiing. The biggest ski resort was more than four hours away from where we lived. My husband got up at four in the morning to get there to be a first skier gliding down the freshly groomed snow. I usually stopped skiing around noon time taking coffee break all afternoon and the three boys had never showed up till the closing time. I ski only on the slope I feel comfortable, but they challenge all the slopes wherever they go. This has made them excellent skiers and me a forever intermediate skier. When we decided to come to Canada two years ago, it was out of question for us to land in Vancouver close to Whistler. In the first winter here kids joined several ski tours to Whistler from school and naturally my husband drove all the way to Whistler following the school bus. Somehow the kids have lost interest in skiing, but my husband dutifully purchased family season pass for Grouse Mountain every winter since after we arrived. This season the kids had too many reasons to join any ski trip. I didn’t want to go either. So the passes were sleeping with all other ski gears in the garage. Having failed to persuade the kids and me, he went to skiing all by himself a couple times. I felt sorry to see him leaving alone; so, I volunteered to go on skiing to Grouse last week. We reached to the top around 9:30 in the morning. It was warm and sunny. As it was a weekday, there were not many skiers. We skied down the slope slowly together and then had ourselves seated on the chair lift. Not a skier was sitting on the lift as far as we could see. The chair was moving slowly up the mountain. On the white slope one young snowboarder was sitting on the snow, three ladies in bright colored jacket standing on the side, chatting and laughing and an old man with silvery hair gracefully skiing down the slope. Trees were all tall, green and sparkling in the sun light on the ground blanketed with white powered snow. I could hear the mechanical sound pushing our chair upward and the sound of people talking and of the ski plates brushing up against the snow powder, but all seemed to be very far and muffled up. Every movement down under looked very slow, still and even frozen. The world seems to have stopped for a while. My husband and I were sitting on the chair saying nothing all the way up to the top, but it was true that we both were engrossed in the serenely quite moment of peace. For the first time the skiing came to me as a delight and I felt like coming back.
Rose – Happy Valentine Everyone
The parking lot at Costco was so jammed; I had to drive in circles to find a spot that a car just spared for me. Putting my daughter on the shopping cart, I rushed into the crowds – the working busy who were fulfilling their weekend shopping duties.
After I collected bread, meat, fish, juice, eggs on my shopping list, I was so tired of squeezing myself around the giant shopping carts – I guess, the shop had not expect to have such a big volume of customers in the old days, otherwise, they might consider to build the cart slightly smaller.
Exhausted, drown in the stuffy air and loud noises; I was ready to make my way out towards the cashier. Suddenly, the Roses attracted my attention; they are so rich in colors - dark red, pink, yellow, orange, and pink - the rosy kind of pink.
“Roses, Valentine’s rose!” my daughter shouted with joy.
I waved the chocolate in front of her, teasing: “Do you want to have this box of chocolate or roses?” Without hesitation, she answered: “I want roses.” I felt it was a real talk between two girls, well to be precise, one girl and one women.
We eventually chose the pink color. I eagerly buried my face into the roses and inhaled deeply. For a second of time in my life – full of chaos, schedules, stress and noises – I got so carried away. The rich, creamy, comfort smell of roses brought me into the nature, a garden full of roses. I could hear the birds singing, the creek flowing, the gentle breeze dancing in the air. After all, it was the roses, the pink rosy kind of roses.
“Excuse me, excuse me.” I pulled myself back again to the noisy surrounding.
“What did you say?” I hadn’t heard anything.
The guy was quite intimidated and gave me a - how can you stand in the middle of the walkway and block everybody - look.
“You are blocking everyone.” He said
“I am so sorry; I was just smelling roses.” I smiled and kept a piece of rosy moment with me.
He rushed through with no intention of listening to me.
After all, I can hear again, the noises of the daily life.
Starlight, midnight, along the roadside, breathing deeply and exhaling slowly, looking the red taillights fading away through my mist, the only sound around me is the rapid swish of passing cars. Lighting a cigarette, breathing deeply and exhaling slowly, gazing the vivid stars shining through the smoke, the only thinking in my mind is my parents. Tomorrow night, you will see the same stars I am seeing. In the quiet spring night, on the other side of the earth, let the stars take my greeting to you. Are you okay now?
I was trying concentrate on my book, but I could not do it because of noise. First I turned off the television, but then other people walking upstairs started bothering me. What I can do? I changed my room, now, I figured out two different sounds. One of which was the refrigerator, and other one was my breathing. I can not turn off both. I just stopped reading, and started cooking.
The sound of silence is deafening. "Tick-tack", the clock says."Tweet-tweet," the birds outside replies.This morning is as calm as my soul.I could even hear my own heartbeat.Blog-blog! the footsteps of my neighbors upstairs, brakes the stillness of time.
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