Outdoors

by R. D. Ashby



There is a silence among trees vastly disproportionate; it appears that we the tiny people are the bearers of noise. The river glides by with hardly a sound: a power-boat speaks for it throwing up two curves of water creasing the entire surface. The bridge and city spread mute in the powerful beams of the sun a circling chopper takes by racket, to orient the sky. Along the lake shore dappled shades where spiders button silver lace the slobbering oar of the hire boat a human advance betrays. Nature is capable of silence and we will all appreciate that mode when suitably in outdoor gear its peace makes ourselves heard.

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