How pleasant silence can be, in the company of those you love, when you want it, when you share it, in privacy, in tenderness. How full it is of life, love and meaning –the silence of the childhood playground, of the gentle hands of a mother, of a father, of the dreams of our children, of the wind when it dies down in the landscapes we love.

How hard is silence in disappointment, in loneliness, in emptiness, in nothingness, in lies, in betrayal, in the voice that stifles itself in fear.

Silence, space between words, so precious at times, so feared at others.

In a small village of whitewashed walls, the tiles plead for silence, and travellers seem to obey them. Perhaps the beauty of the place encourages it, or perhaps the plea is given with kindness and beauty. Silence, please. When it’s like that, what a pleasure it is to give yourself up to silence and encounter yourself, to touch the present, the instant, now, feeling life as it beats and breathes, feeling time as it is and as it vanishes.

Silence, please.

Do you find silence hard? Answers, please.

Hugs and kisses,


Alex Rovira