The Destructive Power of Sound.

When I went out to do my twilight chores this evening, I found that the dusk had deepened early, brought on by heavy grey cloud coming up from the south. Nevertheless, there were still a few raggedy orange ribbons lining the western horizon, left over from the earlier sunset, so I stood and watched them for a while.

The breeze had died to nothing and there was no sound, but then I became aware of a curious sensation swelling inside until it reached my physical perimeter. It wasn’t a reflective sensation or a musing on the meaning of life, but an easy, languid melancholy in which I seemed to be floating. And it was not at all unpleasant.

A sudden, indeterminate noise broke into the reverie and swept it away, and then it was time to muse – on how easily a sound can shatter a subtle sensation, just as surely as a pebble thrown into a still pool can shatter the image reflected from its surface.