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Silence Like Scouring Sand
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<blockquote data-quote="cheryl" data-source="post: 2629" data-attributes="member: 1"><p><a href="https://orionmagazine.org/article/silence-like-scouring-sand/" target="_blank"><strong>Silence Like Scouring Sand - Orion Magazine</strong></a></p><p></p><p><strong>One of America’s quietest places, and the valiant effort to keep it that way</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>RAIN POUNDS</strong> against the open tailgate of my car, where I’ve taken shelter from the worst of the storm. Water pours from the hemlocks onto the devil’s club. From maple bole to bole, raindrops bounce, splattering salmonberry and sorrel. I shrug into my rain gear, shoulder my pack, and splash across the parking lot. Rain bells off cars, smacks against my hood, beats on my shoulders, and drums on the garbage bag covering my pack. Against all instinct, I’m going to backpack into the clattering teeth of this North Pacific gale, in search of silence.</p><p></p><p>It’s not easy to find silence in the modern world. If a quiet place is one where you can listen for fifteen minutes in daylight hours without hearing a human-created sound, there are no quiet places left in Europe. There are none east of the Mississippi River. And in the American West? Maybe twelve. One of these is in the temperate rainforest along the Hoh River in Olympic National Park.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="cheryl, post: 2629, member: 1"] [URL='https://orionmagazine.org/article/silence-like-scouring-sand/'][B]Silence Like Scouring Sand - Orion Magazine[/B][/URL] [B]One of America’s quietest places, and the valiant effort to keep it that way RAIN POUNDS[/B] against the open tailgate of my car, where I’ve taken shelter from the worst of the storm. Water pours from the hemlocks onto the devil’s club. From maple bole to bole, raindrops bounce, splattering salmonberry and sorrel. I shrug into my rain gear, shoulder my pack, and splash across the parking lot. Rain bells off cars, smacks against my hood, beats on my shoulders, and drums on the garbage bag covering my pack. Against all instinct, I’m going to backpack into the clattering teeth of this North Pacific gale, in search of silence. It’s not easy to find silence in the modern world. If a quiet place is one where you can listen for fifteen minutes in daylight hours without hearing a human-created sound, there are no quiet places left in Europe. There are none east of the Mississippi River. And in the American West? Maybe twelve. One of these is in the temperate rainforest along the Hoh River in Olympic National Park. [/QUOTE]
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Silence Like Scouring Sand
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