A majority of my life in this phase remains quiet. Yet, even in the quiet, I hear crickets rubbing legs against the others like tiny violin bows, the first crackle of fire as I light a candle, and the wind mixing poppy-red with burnt yellow and loud orange leaves.
What are you hearing lately?
The goal of language is communication, but the gift of language is feeling. Spanish sounds like singing to me, while Russian sounds like confidence personified. And language does not need to be heard to be felt. Reading an author’s words, especially when artfully chosen, sparks our amygdala, and we feel what they mean.
I’m pleased to invite you to absorb the language in our Prose offerings this quarter, and then ask yourself what you hear.
Happy reading!
