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March 13, 2013: Filling the Air with Sound

Today Fran, Sarah, and I went on a lengthy hike – on the flats, from Goldstream Road (nearly to) Miller Hill Road. We trekked on the mushing/snowmachine trail – a long, flat, wide expanse – open, but bordered by spindly spruce.

As we moved along, at what I would say was a comfortable pace, the phrase “filling the air with sound” came to mind, for this is what we were doing. We were not trilling, chirping, or clucking. Rather, we were making people sounds.

I envisioned the birds (chickadees), rabbits (snowshoe hares), and ungulates (moose) listening to us, in part to determine if our intentions were good. They finally decided that yes they were, so they didn’t need to waste energy fleeing the scene.

All we were is what we were – three woman moving down trail, chatting companionably, once in a while chuckling about this or that or the other. We talked about mundane and not-so-mundane matters – about animals, about art, about science, about family members and friends, about books that we’ve read and need to read.

As we walked and talked, the snow crunched underfoot --it crunches when the weather is warm, a most satisfying sound, this as opposed to squeaking when the weather is cold. Sometimes we walked fast, and sometimes we walked slow, stopping to add or subtract layers, stopping to admire and observe nature,

stopping to admire and observe an old lime green Volkswagon van, stopping on the return trip to admire and observe our tracks, which were reassuring in the sense that they meant we were headed in a homeward direction.

It occurred to me at the conclusion of our trek that woman talk/artist talk/animal talk/walk keeps us all connected. Tromp, tromp, stomp, stomp. In the end, nothing more needed to be said.

Next: 73. 3/14/14: Artists at Work