Enchanted Silence

I opened my eyes at 6:51 this morning, feeling cursed to have missed those extra minutes of sleep before the 7:00 alarm. But, then, another feeling took over: the feeling that an enchantment of a different sort was at work. It was a feeling that made me wonder if I was even in my own house. For all the world, what it seemed like was absolute silence. And, it wasn't just the morning fog in my head. It actually was completely noiseless in the house. Even the annoying birds that linger in the tree outside our bedroom window had ceased their morning chatter. At once, this new sensation made me feel exhilarated and uncomfortable. I hated to put my feet on the floor, for fear of breaking whatever spell had been cast upon our home. But, the treadmill beckoned, and I could not refuse its summons again. So, I got myself up and reluctantly made my way upstairs, knowing that those precious silent moments, which seemed so out of place here, were now in serious jeopardy. For close to 30 minutes, the quietude was only interrupted by the sound of the fans blowing, my feet rhythmically hitting the treadmill and my labored breathing, evidence of the workout neglect that has been taking place recently. Just as I finished up my two-mile run and began my cool down, there was an insignificant clattering of dishes in the kitchen, and I thought surely things had returned to normal. But, then, no other sound followed. No crashing or banging or arguing or rustling or whining. Not even the sound of juice being spilled all over the floor. The silence resumed, and it was consummate. The oddness of this unusual situation now seemed to outweigh the novelty of it. I wondered if it would all go away when I walked down the stairs. Much to my relief, it remained intact. I found only one other being milling around--another as entranced by the quiet and concerned with maintaining it as myself. It was this one who had produced the minor sound I had heard earlier. We sat for a few minutes across the dining room table from one another, exchanging hushed morning greetings and pleasantries, but keeping our interactions to a minimum so as not to pollute the perfect soundlessness that seemed to be penetrating our home. Eventually, I made my way to the shower, as the silence lingered. It wasn't until almost 9:00 that other life forms started appearing and a buzz began around the house. Even then, heck, even now, it remained and remains at a reasonable decibel level, which is utterly amazing, given the inhabitants of this house. This is mainly due to the fact that most of the children have been outdoors since breakfast. But it still feels like an enchanted sort of day, and who knows if I should ever be so lucky as to encounter another one like it.