Early morning silence in the country is startling.
By comparison to city or suburb it first seems complete, all-embracing, triumphant.
Country silence is full of sound
Bird songs of all variety
A jet engine miles above
A rustling branch in a warming breeze
A fish breaks the plane of the pond’s surface and leaps into the air, returning to the deep with a satisfying splash.
The sounds enrich the silence; they occur against its background, and both sound and silence reveal one another as more than either might be alone.
As if they could be alone.