A Noisy Silence

I heard recently that appliances such as freezers, dish washers, fridges and other such household conveniences now carry a noise factor rating along with the consumption of energy rating.

It brings to mind our early days at Lake Laberge, the pre-appliance and pre-electricity days. The most appealing part of living out here was the solitude and the absence of the urban clatter that we had come to accept as being normal in our city quarters. We had no on line electricity and used propane, gas or 12 volt power. The latter was preferred as it was silent as opposed to the hissing of a propane or gas lantern. The 12-volt did necessitate the running of a power plant to charge the batteries for an hour or so each day but once that chore was finished, there again was the blessed absence of noise.

Things were quiet. I don’t mean silent but quiet. Quiet as in hearing only those things that belonged there. Sounds like the wind fluttering the Aspen leaves, the swishing flight of a passing raven, the waves spending themselves on the rocks below, the spatter of rain on the roof and the distant cry of a jubilant gull telling the world that all was well.

In the winter there was the crackling fire in the woodstove, the wind whistling in the eaves, the far away howling of a husky or wolf, the squeaking footsteps of someone walking outside and the musical peep of the Grosbeaks around the bird feeder outside.

In late April the robins returned and added their melody to the evening. The highflying gulls came home to raise their families around the lake. Their distant cries were heard far across the lake as they gracefully sailed the skies, starkly white against the distant shore. In the late evening the resident ravens would wing their way home to some distant roost, the awkward swish of their wings somehow lending an ungraceful overtone to their wonderful flying ability.

Then came electricity, the fridge, the dryer, the water pump and all of the conveniences associated therewith. The urban clatter and roar started to invade the neighborhood as these available conveniences now made it easier for others to live in the bush setting that was heretofore reserved for the occasional easier periods of summer.

It is now hard to imagine the peaceful quiet of our yesterdays although they do occasionally occur. Mind you, I’m not really complaining all that hard and can appreciate the water at the tap, a cold beer in summer and the comfort of an inside bathroom compared to the outside facilities we used to have. Sometimes however I do miss those days of solitude.