This morning, as I folded laundry in the bedroom I suddenly sensed the oddest thing.
The windows were open to a soothing breeze with the curtains fluttering gently. Gwennie was curled up near me on the rug watching my every move; she is a fabulous guard dog. Sunshine filtered through the thick pine branches near my window making little patterns on the floor.
And then this unusual thing occurred.
Silence. Total, complete silence. Like being in a vacuum. As if time had stopped, with not a sound to be heard. Anywhere. Not a bird chirping, no insects buzzing, not a car or truck or plane. No dogs barking, no tv sounds or voices on the street. Sudden deafening silence.
I thought I had suddenly lost my hearing, dropped the towel I was folding to clap my hands. I said, "Oh!" loudly, making Gwennie jump up in a dither.
Relieved that I had not become deaf, I stood quite still and listened. How strange that this moment in time on this regular day, during a dull chore, made me feel....well, happy. Almost exhilarated.
For five or six minutes, perhaps a bit longer, I stood looking out the window at the quiet unmoving world.
And then everything started back up again. I heard crickets and sparrows, a car honked a few streets over and the neighbor's cat across the street meowed loudly. The silent spell was broken; the earth began to turn again.
I began folding towels anew, and smiled and hummed to myself.