no sound at all

I love the sound of the ocean crashing. It reminds me that sometimes beautiful is raw and powerful, driving toward the shore with absolute persistence and focus.

When I hear small children laughing, it makes me think of rainbows and a twenty dollar bill found unexpectedly in the pocket of my best worn jeans.

The sigh of a person sleeping make me want to give them safety on a silver platter, makes me wonder how any of us sleep at all with this world so off kilter and unkind.
Silence then crickets. Silence then crickets.

I adore the soft hitch and scratch of book pages turning, a feather slipping into the wind and lifting itself to the very highest places.

That sound that is no sound at all. When everyone you love is at home and asleep and not one of them is striving or struggling. They are each wrapped in sheets and bundled into blankets in their own particular way - a neck snugged atop too many pillows, a foot sticking out with blue nail polish on scuffed toes, dirty laundry in piles on the floor.
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Sigh and snore, the best sound of all.