Quietude

Settling the west side of Silver Lake, Alec and I pitched out tent and prepared our meal as the dusk and rain simultaneously fell. From the other side of the lake, a beaver, accustomed to privacy, swam over with curiosity and played in the water before us. From the shore we watched as he resurfaced from a dive with a fish. As we mutually watched each other preparing for our dinners, our collective silence amid the Adirondack wilderness was entirely appropriate, for without a shared language, Alec and I and the beaver could only understand one another in utter quiet.