Trip provided moment of peace

It was a moment of perfect peace as I leaned against the railing and closed my eyes. We were on the way back home from a trip to a craft store in Michigan. My husband had discovered the rails-to-trails pathway while researching things to do in the area.
The map led us down several unpaved roads that were bordered by some very large houses. At the edge of a tiny town we found the trailhead and a parking space. The trail was unpaved and the fine gravel crunched under our sneakers. Spiky purple flowers dotted the edges of the path and beyond. Tall grass with feathery maroon blooms sheltered the walkway from the rest of the world. Vivid yellow wildflowers accented the maroons and purples. The sky was a pure, saturated blue that was intensified by dollops of fluffy meringue-like clouds.
It was so quiet. Several bicyclists passed us. A runner jogged by, ears plugged with earbuds, a pained look on his face. We veered to the edge to get out of his way. We passed a couple of men working on trail maintenance. Our destination was an old railroad trestle but we were in no hurry to get there.
It was well worth the walk. At the entrance to the trestle there was a place to tie a couple of horses and the admonition that horses weren’t allowed on the railroad bridge. The roadbed was wooden and it made a satisfying sound under our feet. There was a fence almost as tall as me to keep people from going over the edge and falling into the languid stream below. The trees and underbrush were so thick that I couldn’t even see the ground. I leaned against the fence and shut my eyes.
For the first time in a long time it was quiet. No lawn mowers. No television. No thumping cars. Not even cicadas or crickets. Silence. Pure, blessed silence. No dishes screaming to be washed. No house demanding to be maintained. Nothing at all. Just silence. It was what I imagine heaven will be. Perfect peace.
We finally turned back and made our way to where we had begun. A man walking his dog caught up with us and chatted for a while before striding on ahead. A woman with a small dog was just beginning her trek as we neared our car. It was a long drive home. The stillness of the trestle remained.
Unfortunately, the noisiness of the world has returned. The television is shouting tales of a shooting outside the Empire State Building. Someone is mowing their lawn. Dishes are waiting to be washed. Traffic from the annual antique engine and tractor show is crowding the streets. Weeds are popping up in the driveway. My to-do list has grown exponentially. All the chaos is overwhelming. I’m not sure which project to start first.
And yet there was that one perfect moment of silence and quiet. And I wonder why we surround ourselves with the din of everyday life when all the hubbub is so annoying.
Yet, if we do nothing but close our eyes and breathe, we will soon find that we have nowhere to stay and nothing to eat. Therefore, we create endless to-do lists. We cook, clean, weed and do what needs to be done to make our corner of the world livable. We drive ourselves nuts trying to have it all while keeping our heads above water.
I needed that one perfect moment to restore my soul. I am so grateful to my husband for finding that out of the way trail.
Now I am ready to go shopping for wrapping paper and a birthday card for my mother. I am ready to weed, cook and clean; not that there is the remotest chance that I can ever finish those tasks before I need to begin again. I have faith that I will someday experience another perfect moment of peace and quiet. Until then, all I have to do is close my eyes and remember the pure blessed silence.[[In-content Ad]]