When the silence is the solitude

Even when you're miles away from the nearest car, it seems like there's always a bird, the low hum of a beehive, a breath of wind, the whispered roar of a jet miles overhead. But up here, when the wind died and the finches flew away: nothing. The sudden stillness wasn’t a surprise - the silence, while striking, was expected. What surprised me was the rush of solitude. I hadn’t seen or spoken to another human since the previous afternoon, so I was well aware of being alone. But it was then, in that total silence, that the solitude was most tangible.