As some may know, especially those of us lucky enough to be in the northeast, we had a little bit of a storm come through here last night and today. It’s April and it’s snowing outside. Yes, we were in that big blob of white surrounded by the big circling mass of green up there in the northeast. Does winter ever end up here? Just when I thought the groundhogs might come out…

Anyways, we had an hour or two of excitement when we got home from work as the power was out. Well, I wouldn’t call it excitement, more like annoyance. The house was freezing cold, I was starving and was looking forward to watching Stargate: Atlantis! All that aside, after eating turkey sandwiches and curling up on the couch with a blanket, Calvin and I just read for a little while to the quiet ticking of the only battery operated clock in our house until the electricity came back on.

Whenever the power goes out, the silence that ensues thereafter always brings about a certain amazement as to how incredibly noisy houses are and we never even realize it. I was startled out of my reading revere by the distinct sound of the electricity coming on. You may say that makes no sense, or you may know just what I’m talking about! Though the events happened quite simultaneously, I could pick out the distinct noises popping on all around the house. The furnace kicked on, the fish tank bubbled to life, the printer announced its return upstairs with a whir, and the refrigerator hummed happily again. I heard little electronic clicks and barely perceivable whines around the living room, which faded to nothingness as suddenly as they registered in my ears, as various electronic devices surged with power again, accompanied by their little glowing red and orange eyes. The quiet tick, tick, tick of the battery operated clock suddenly seemed drowned out by the noise that was suddenly generated by electricity.

Then, before I even really had time to think all of what I just wrote (sort of like Jonah and his supposed fantastic poem on the way down) it all seemed normal again, not noisy, not loud, just normal. It occurs to me how much we must really take for granted true silence in our busy, noisy, modern lives. How often do we really hear silence - or even just the raw sounds of unadulterated, untouched life? Can we sit in a field and just listen to the call of a songbird in the distance, without the swoosh of a car on a nearby road, or music blaring from an iPod stuck in our ear? Can we hear the rustle of the wind in the trees on a starry night, with only an owl for company? Can we meditate in a dark cave, and hear only the drop of water echoing in the depths?

Or would we get bored? Would I get bored? Given my negative reaction to the loss of my electricity, I rather think I might. Yet there is something within me that yearns to be in such a place. Something that thinks I may find God there, in the quietness, in the silence, in the peace. But perhaps I don’t need to go sit in a field or forest or cave to find it.