Unless otherwise attributed, all content, text or image, on this site is © TaunaLen 2005-2011.
All rights reserved. Republication or redistribution is prohibited without prior written consent.

Friday, October 12, 2007

The Plangent Din

The coffee shop is filled with noise. The music clangs and thumps in time to the voice of the woman at the next table. She’s unhappy. Her tire is damaged. The service center is backed up. She frets to the listener on the other end of her phone that her busy, important life is interrupted. Her voice pitching against the ceiling tiles, she deliberates changed plans for dinner, picking up the kids from school, bills to pay and frustration. How can her tires give her such trouble today, when she has no time or patience to spare?

The blender and coffee grinder spin in the background as baristas greet customers and distribute cups filled to the brim with flavored caffeine. In another corner, two men in business attire discuss claims and dynamics, golf and chaos theory. The man behind me sits stoically as the waves of noise break over us. Randomly, the chain he wears from his belt clinks against the chair leg---a persistent, albeit timid voice in the cacophony. Absorbed in his book, though he frowns in response to the woman’s tirade, he is, for the most part, weathering the storm.

Another woman, chatting on her cell phone, cuts across this sea of sound on her way out the door. Like a passing steamship, her voice grows louder and then fades as she sails out of sight. Finally, the woman with the ill-behaved tires ends her phone call, and in the quiet that follows her wake, the smaller voices chime in. The clink of ceramic cups and metal spoons, the rustle of a newspaper, and the melodic humming of a barista behind the counter all blend with the jazz cascading from the speakers in the ceiling. Occasionally, between the melody, the conversation, and the crashing of the ice machine, silence sounds its grave, tacit notes, and my pen scratch-scratch-scratches as it makes its journey across the page.

Too much silence can be a gaping, greedy beast, stalking me. Moving in to devour the creativity that pushes my pen, it threatens. But today, in this coffee shop, teeming with life and humanity, silence is a welcomed friend, who takes me by the hand and whispers truth in my ear. Even here, in this sea of jangling din, there is room for words to unite, grow and thrive. Beauty is born of clamor---moments before the headache begins.

4 comments:

Kari said...

How very pleasant. A beautifully written post and no picture of an icky spider. Thank you very much. lol

Carlene Bradford said...

Hey, I thought you were going to post about brother & sisters. I am waiting. Love ya, Mom

childlife said...

I love how you can transform cacophony into a symphony with a twirl of your pen... like a masterful conductor you raise your hands and the world just sings : )

Shannon said...

Beautiful post, TaunaLen. I love that last line.

Just wanted to drop by and say hello ... and tell you that your name is now in my bowl! :)

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Unless otherwise attributed, all content, text or image, on this site is © TaunaLen 2005-2009.
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