I am part of a group of Gospel writers who each week give us a writing prompt. This promot was “When Silence Speaks” and had a 300 word limit. This is my attempt at the prompt. It represents first a reflection of my childhood, then two scenes from adulthood.

Socks, boots, snow pants, mittens, scarf, hat, coat, and finally ready.  Finally step outside into fourteen inches of white. It blankets the world and still falls in steady cascades of quiet.  It is silent. The world is rendered mute under the noiseless assault underway. This universe is robbed of color and sound.  A deep breath of sharp air assaults the lungs and a pure joy fills the heart. The silence speaks to my heart. Peace, beauty, and wonder abound and the silence assaults my ears in the most delicious of roars.  It is so quiet. I trudge deep into the woods listening attentively as the silence continues its concert.

Leaves piling up and grey skies mute the expanse.  Docks are pulled out, boats covered and stored, and shutters on the screens.  October on the Lake has chased everyone back home to warmer houses and busier schedules.  The sand crunches under my boots as I stride to the water’s edge and gaze out over miles of mirror.  It is a symphony of color as reds and oranges drown out the muted evergreen, reflecting for full effect in the smooth surface of the water.  The bald eagle soars high overhead. As my feet stop, the last quiet crunch of sand fades away. It is silent. The silence speaks to my heart of days gone by and generations of my family that enjoyed this lake.  In the silence, the collected experiences of those who came before me swirl around me and I hear them. Fall air fills the lungs with the flavor of passing nature and seasonal change.  

A wrinkled hand and ragged breath.  Dim unseeing eyes but still warmth in the touch.  Then change and the breath grows weaker. Weaker. It is silent.  Dad is gone. The silence speaks a last goodbye.