I struggle with noise… be it cultural capitalist clatter or anxious apprehensive self-abuse…
It’s oh so quiet…
Under the tree… in the shade, sheltered from the heat of the midday sun…
We agreed “no-one can take this away from us.”
I sat with my wife and daughters and just took in the moment.
The cicadas sang in the nearby trees, the mountains bathed as though sleeping in the heat.
Rugged escarpments carved the bluest blue sky.
The brightest flowers decorated the greenest foliage in a small valley that played in to the a small Turkish Mediterranean bay.
It’s hard to explain.
It’s taken a week of tempering to reach a state of heat induced contentment.
It’s hard to explain, but it’s possible to forget, ignore, or perhaps swallow the worries and annoyances of the world and just be grateful for the moment.
To breathe in the mountains, breathing in blue jasmine, breath in the olive tree, breath in the sweaty forehead, breath in the clutter of life that chatters around us…
We returned to the UK…
Oh… it’s oh so quiet…
No cicadas, tinnitus returns.
The sizzle is replaced with an English tranquility.
A verdant pleasant land.
The ubiquitous cloud decorates the horizon.
The land and humanity is reorganised…
It’s still possible to forget, ignore or perhaps swallow the worries and annoyances of the world and just be grateful for the moment.
To breathe in the ancient pathway, breathe in the hedgerow, breath in the flying swans, breath in that unique evening light, breath in the clutter of life that chatters loudly around us…
It’s hard to explain, because it is oh so quiet, amongst the noise…
Jules P Richards 