The morning is still and quiet and so am I. I lie in bed for a short while before getting up. Then I come into the dining room and sit down at my table where my Mac lives. I automatically check the sites that usually interest me and then I go into the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, which is all of two paces away, I put the kettle on, grab a mug and put a teabag in it. Then I open a package of instant oatmeal and pour it into a bowl and stir. Then I microwave it. By that time, the water is hot and I pour it into my cup. I stand at the counter while I eat the first teaspoons of oatmeal. Then I sit down at the table to finish the rest of it.

While drinking my tea, I go into the bedroom and put my clogs on to go out and get the Sunday paper in the driveway. Standing at the kitchen counter, I separate the paper into the sections I want to read (everything but sports). I return to the table and page through the ads to see if there any coupons that I want to clip. (They aren’t any.)

I take the paper and my almost empty cup of tea and sit down in a recliner to read the paper. The silence is deafening. You can feel it as you read this note, can’t you? Everything carried out slowly without thought interfering in the process.

After I have read the paper, I return to the computer again for a brief period. Then I go to the pantry and get a biscotti to have with a second cup of tea. Ah, the joy of solitude.

Vicki Woodyard