This morning as I meditated and then drank my coffee, I thought about how silent it is up in my hilltop haven. The sounds that I do hear are not jarring. The wind blowing through the pine, chinaberry and huge avocado outside the living room. The distant sound of a rooster. Someone sweeping. Velcro purring. The birds singing.
As I sat and said "Aaaah", there was the daily horn honking one house down from me. It was the pickup truck that delivers milk. It is goat's milk, I think. Out of doors come the Mexican women with ladle and bowl in hand. Some bring pitchers but usually it is just a bowl. Presumably that is how much they use on a daily basis. It is of course unpasturized.
It is so guiet that I can hear the hummingbirds zipping from bloom to bloom.
It enhances my life to be aware of the silence.
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