Not so long ago, I've been longing to read a book. But it seems that I can't; and it's because I can't find solitude . . .
I've been longing for silence, but I can't find it inside our house, not even outside. I could hear dogs barking, loud music—televisions—motorcycles' engines roaring.
I couldn't stand it; so I searched for a quiet place. Searching here and there . . . I found none. I was hopeless, accepting the fact that I need to live with the noises around me. But the time when I was about to go back—I found one,
I found myself standing on our roof. Our rusty roof. I still can hear some annoying sounds but the relaxing chirps of the birds are overpowering the irritating noises below.
So I went back to our house, grabbed a small chair, grabbed the book I want to read, my iPod, and my camera. Yes, I am writing this article on top of our house!
I can finally read peacefully.
After four hours of non-stop reading, I noticed that the sun was going down. I still read until it was dark enough to not see a word.
To make my long story short, I finished the book. And my solitude experience was so amazing; to sit down read and enjoy your alone time is so . . . relaxing! Good thing it didn't rain.
I even got my first photograph of a bird.
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| Sorry if you can't see the bird! |
