The house is incredibly silent right now.
My husband left early for a county band festival, so there's not the usual "bull in a China shop" noise that accompanies him wherever he goes. My son is sleeping soundly, not even a snore can be heard from his direction. The cat has abandoned me for softer surroundings and his rumbling purr is gone.
It's just me and the clicks of the keys on my keyboard.
If I stop typing, though, I can hear other things that largely go unnoticed.
The ticking of the clock on the mantle. I never knew that it had an audible ticking.
The occasional pings and thumps of the baseboard heat.
The clicks and snaps of the house settling.
The twittering of birds outside. Spring landed early this year.
The hum of traffic from the streets downtown. Sounds like a busy Saturday morning.
I really am a solitary human being. As much as I love the important people in my life, I enjoy my moments spent solely with myself, too. I like being alone in my thoughts, being able to focus on pleasing my own soul rather than someone else's.
It's quiet here. And I like it.