The Sound of Silence

I took this photo while procrastinating during my days as a flower farmer so long ago. The work was hard, but the views, the sounds of nature, and the scents of the field were intoxicating. I will never regret taking time to soak it all in and just enjoy the fruits of mine and my family’s labor.



The Sound of Silence

does not exist to me, but this photo, taken several years ago, reminds me of the times when I was about as close as I would ever be, to experiencing complete silence.

This field, though far from the bustling sounds of any city, at least a half a mile away from any other neighbor, and nestled in one of the most beautiful countrysides west of the Mississippi River, was  anything but quiet.

Mother Nature’s Super Expressway

I spent countless hours right along side Mother Nature out in this space.  Picking flowers in what passers by might perceive as solitude, but I was never alone, and it was never quiet.  Instead of hearing cars whizzing by on the Edens Expressway in the suburbs north of Chicago, where we had previously lived, I was now accustomed  to the sounds of another form of traffic.  Nature.  Bees, flies, dragonflies, humming birds, and every other kind of bug and bird that calls an Iowa field home, were constantly buzzing by like speeders on the expressway.  If I wore bright orange, or if my husband drank out of a bright orange cup, we had to be wary of hummingbirds that might mistake us for a giant flower and attempt to steal nectar from our ears!  Every morning, I battled with barn swallows who tried to attack me as I attempted to open the door to my old flower shop.  To them, I was an intruder, as they had made their nest directly above the door.  Sounds of tiny wings swooping down with bat like speed so close to me, I could have reached out and grabbed them.

Bees that never stopped working…except for this

The birds were noisy, but they always seemed to take a break from their busy schedules every now and then.  The bees, on the other hand, were workaholics.  Never did they stop buzzing from flower to flower, working tirelessly, never taking a break, except for when the sun decided to hide sheepishly behind the clouds.

It never failed, no matter how busy those bees were, the minute, the second, the sun hid itself, all work came to an end, and silence wrapped it’s cloak around me.



Went out for a walk, 

ran into you.

Wanted to talk,

but you had so much to do.

Staring at your screen,

staring down as you walked.

More important than me was that screen,

so I walked.

I walked alone and I waved so long to you.

You, with more important things to do.

Like texting, or Facebook, or surfing the web,

from your hand held device, or iPhone instead.

Instead of looking up, at the world all around you,

You chose your electronics, your wifi, to surround you.

I’m no better than you, rest assured.

As I point one finger at you,

there is not a first, nor a second, but a third.

A third digit pointing right back at me.

I have counted them, yes, there are three.

That’s three times I can guarantee.

At least three times I have been guilty of the same damn thing.

Ignoring my loved ones as they have tried to connect.

But I had too much to do.

Too many friends to request,

too many pictures to like,

too many thoughts to post, to think of, to write.

And in so doing my best,

to connect with those in my nest,

I failed a simple test.

I forgot what’s most important, what I so need to do.

And that is to remember the importance of you.

You are right here, right next to me now.

You should come first, not some digital device.

Why is it so hard to heed my own advice?

©Marie Stephens 2014 All rights reserved