It's so quiet in my apartment on a Sunday morning. When I first lived here, I marveled at it. The apartment before had a noisy upstairs neighbor. Now, I climb to the top floor for the pleasure of silence.
I need the quiet of a Sunday morning. Doesn't everyone? The world is so noisy with terrible news. We are going over the cliff, they say. I close my eyes. How long can this reality exist? How long the view of the water tower and the birds that circle it? How long, the maple tree, the dog at my hip, the cat at the window?