Quiet places. Somewhere that you may like to go. Somewhere I like to go.
But what is a quiet place? Of course, it may be a place physically devoid of sound, a vacuum of nothing. Such places are rare, and somewhat elusive.
No. To me, a quiet place has sound, but lacks noise.
A quiet place may be in the bush, with birdsong, a gentle rustle of the breeze in the treetops, a creek simply being a creek.
Perhaps it’s a gravel road in the country at that time where the mist is still there but the sun is gently encouraging it to retire for the morning.
It may be a place quiet in tone: the brown, the green, the grey, the yellow.
It may be artificially quiet. That special place; but now where the tones have been blackened, and the birdsong relocated until The Noise displaces them once again.
A quiet place will be different to us all. To me, quintessentially, it is a place where the noise of life, of stress, of work, of machines, of conflict – is gone, and my mind is quiet. That is my quiet place.
I hope you enjoy journeying to my quiet places.
Series Two: A stroll on The Mountain in summer
It’s cooler up here. The loud city is far away: turn south, or west, and it’s quieter still. It’s an easy escape, almost cheating.
Dolerite, warmed, is soft, and more colourful at 8pm.
I sit.
The flowers are simple and small, not brash like the gardens of Man, but still they speak, softly.
My mind quietens.
Previously
Series One - Quiet places: takayna
Nick Monk was born and raised in Tasmania. He was introduced to bushwalking at high school, and has been doing it ever since. Inspired by the beauty around him, and the wilderness photography of Tasmania’s great exponents of the craft, he bought his first camera in 2003. He has remained a passionate advocate for all aspects of the Tasmanian landscape ever since.
