Lately my days have been quiet. Some full of activity, others full of feeling. Some brought disappointment (why aren’t my job plans panning out?), and others have seen adventure (Stan Hywett in Akron), heard laughter (falling off of a hayride) and appreciated beauty (fall drives). Most have been full of studying and avoiding writing. But somehow, even in all of that, things have seemed quiet.
This quiet feels like reading a book in a corner of the library. There can be action and emotion on every page and you’re totally engrossed in the story, but even the most imaginative reader remembers that she’s actually tucked safely in the stillness of the library. The reader deeply loves Hogwarts and is genuinely nervous for Ron and Hermoine’s relationship, but those experiences are regulated by the quietness of the library.
Maybe this quietness is really a forgotten peace and calm. Or maybe I’m still acclimating to this new season of life. I’ll take it either way — quiet days sure beat anxious ones.