The only time it’s quiet enough to think is late at night. The only problem is that it is late at night, which proves to be problematic in the morning.

I’ve always been a night person, staying up late in the still quiet since as long as I can remember. I always figured it was exclusively the product of OCD or ADD or some other alphabet soup sort of thing. But tonight I’m left wondering if it is just because the still and quiet makes it easier to breathe, to think uninterrupted, to just be.

The silence is one of my favorite aspects of winter which will soon be here in the valley. After a heavy snowfall, the muffled, enveloping silence deepens to a point where at night it is almost tangible. It holds a sense of warmth and comfort in stark contrast to the frigid conditions just outside.

I love the silence at night. It’s funny how the absence of something, in this case sound and vibration, can be so very fulfilling.