ilence, or the absence of sound, is nearly impossible to experience today, unless achieved either through unfortunate or artificial means. A necessary component of contemplation or meditative practice, silence is thwarted through the constant hum of modern electronic noises, however packaged. Of course, noise of some sort is always present unless we intentionally distance ourselves. Even in the woods, the nightly screaming of the crickets, the thunderous pounding of chipmunks as they crack open acorns at a distance of 200 meters, the deafening roar of the freshening breeze across the treetops; there is no end to the type and manner of intrusive sounds.

When attempting explore the sound-world of the past, we have to acknowledge that there has probably never been a period of time in human existence when the world was free of noisy distractions. But in what might be called the better sort of poetry and music, silence must be managed as a component of literary thought and musical effect.

“Silence beyond all speech a wisdome rare…”

– John Dowland, “I saw my Lady weepe,” Second Booke of Songs or Ayres, 1600