Quiet Weather

I’ve always liked the gloomy days, because the gloomy days force everyone to be quiet. In the riot of sunshine and cloudless sky, everything screams and sings and shouts. The sky is too big; it yawns over the earth like an echo chamber.

But in the gloomy days, a hush falls over the world. The sky is like a heavy damper on the strings of a piano. The screaming and singing and shouting is muffled with fog and sullenness. But that which is quiet, and has always been, doesn’t get muffled. That which is quiet hums softly as it always does. The gloom forces us all to listen. The gloom makes the quiet loud.

And for once, I’m louder than the weather.

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