I recently returned from my first trip to the Colorado Plateau this year. After an extremely busy few months, I welcomed the chance to slow down and relax, as well as to revel in the warmth of the spring sun on the red rock. I went alone.
While I wanted to explore a few areas that I had not been to before, I also wanted to take some time for introspection; growing up as an only child, I have grown to value silence. After setting up my tent, I took a walk through a piñon-juniper forest that burned several years ago. As the red ochre-colored hills receded toward the distant cliffs, the lifeless skeletons of these trees stood before me, each one seeming to take on a different, animated, pose. I sat for a while, admiring the stark and barren, but pleasant scene. In the West especially, fire is part of our ecology.
The burn, March 2012
I often notice that when walking alone, I find myself whispering. Why not talk to myself at a normal volume, or like some people, take the opportunity to scream out, knowing my confessions will be my own only? I have never been a screamer, in fact when I have something important to say, you will find me saying it quietly to myself. I am not sure whether this is a good trait or not, but part of me hates to muddy the already sweet sound of the wild. On this particular trip, western bluebirds had already moved into the area (a sure sign of spring) and their song is surely better than anything I could say.
Silence. When I whisper no one answers back. At the same time, it can be comforting and empty, exciting and lonely.
“I fear silence because it leads me to myself, a self I may not wish to confront. It asks that I listen. And in listening, I am taken to an unknown place. Silence leaves me alone in a place of feeling. It is not necessarily a place of comfort.”
–Terry Tempest Williams
After dinner and a night’s sleep under a blanket of stars, I explore more canyons. Part of the fun of a trip like this is not having any expectations, taking the time to poke your head into slot canyons, pretending you might find something no one else has ever seen before. The lack of both a defined plan and a guidebook are two of the best ways to drive creativity in photography, to let your voice be heard. In silence, I revel at the sky, the clouds moving over the top of me, dappled light falling on sandstone monoliths.
Shadow play.
Monolithic, March 2012
I spend the afternoon–the next few afternoons–wandering up small canyons alone, admiring the potholes which are full of water from recent rains, watching tadpoles begin to make their transition from aquatic to terrestrial, and confronting the silence head-on. There is a lot to see in this small corner of southern Utah–I know I will be be back, soon hopefully, for there is a lot left unseen, both in the landscape and in myself.
One of the things that amazes me about silence is that it so boldly opens our souls; this is at odds with the way we close ourselves off in the hustle of our everyday lives. I am not sure how to reconcile this. However, I know until I can return to the Colorado Plateau my daydreams will drift to clouds floating in a sky above red sandstone cliffs, of the cool air inside a tight slot canyon, and the way the morning smells when I am waist-deep in sagebrush.
Another thoughtful post Greg. I think silence is even more important in todays fast paced technological world.
I often find on long trips that I relish silence over even my favorite music. It’s a wonderful opportunity to focus on where I’ve been and where I’m heading.
Silence is definitely more difficult to come by in today’s fast-paced world. Its funny that you mentioned your favorite music, Russ, because I almost always turn my radio off and just focus on the silence. It really is golden.
Thanks for the comment!
Very interesting thoughts Greg, silence is a Gift.
Thanks, Werner. I appreciate you stopping by and commenting! I agree that silence is a gift…
I so enjoy reading your posts Greg. The thoughts you share open up mental wanderings of my own and help my mind to experience something my day to day life doesn’t allow.
As Russ mentions above, a long trip with no sounds allows one to contemplate a bit over the steady drone of the highway sounds that eventually disappear into the background and allow one to examine an idea or concept.
ANd, as always, you have posted a couple of superb images to accompany the prose.
Many thanks, Steve. I appreciate your continued comments and thoughts. It seems like road trips are an excellent opportunity to take advantage of silence.
Thank you for your kind words about the images…I’m glad you like them!
Always a great read Greg! After just finishing a solo trip of my own I can relate to the feelings and thoughts that you share in this post. I find each time I head out for a trip by myself I come back knowing a little more about myself.
Agreed, Kyle…you always learn a little more about yourself on each trip. I’m looking forward to seeing your new images from your recent trip too!
Great thoughts Greg, and superb photos to go with it — especially monolithic.
I feel kind of the opposite of what Williams says in this quote. At this point in my life I look forward to silent moments… to me that place it leads has become a place of comfort and growth…
Thanks, PJ, for your thoughts. I really can relate, too, to what you’re saying about silence being a place of comfort. It is comforting to me too, but there has always been a small amount of uneasiness for me…I’m not sure why. That said, I still enjoy it a lot.
Greg, you’ve struck upon a draw for many people. For my own part, wilderness is a reason to be silent, not just verbally but mentally and spiritually, as well.
How much easier is it to silence our minds while absorbing a wilderness landscape? I don’t know how to quantify this…but I do know that I’ve stared like a blinking fool on more than one occasion during my first human encounter after a stretch in the backcountry…everything slows down out there, which is a good thing.
Love the images, especially Monolithic. Lets see more of those!
Thanks, Wesley! I agree completely, and am smiling at your analogy of having a human encounter after being in the wilderness. The transition back to reality is a tough one sometimes.
I remember a few years ago when a friend and I arrived in Tuolumne Meadows (in Yosemite) after being on the John Muir Trail for about a week…it felt like I was walking onto the Strip in Las Vegas…just a little too much madness, and definitely a lack of silence.
I need to get more images posted…thanks for the kind words!
Wonderful post and a reminder of what is important. The masses of people in our society today have become addicted to TV, gadgets, video games, social media and anything that provides an escape from silence. The continuous chatter: texting, IMs, etc. All of these are great tools in and of themselves, but if used as an escape from ourselves only make us lonely as the recent article pointed out was the case with Social Media. The Terry Tempest Williams quote above reminds us of why people run from silence and why we need to re-develop a relationship with it. Thanks, Greg.
Thanks, David. Now, tweet this blog post! 🙂
I am kidding, but your point is really well-taken. We really have distanced ourselves from ourselves quite well in today’s society. Developing a relationship with silence is a very important thing to do, I think…