Sound of Silence: The Quiet Nothingness of the Arctic Circle

Photo by Lonely Girl, Lonely World.

I worked in the Arctic Circle, Lapland, Finland, from November 22 - December 29, 2023.

I walk the road less trodden

Stand still in the centre of snow

No birds, no wind, no sigh

And I listen to the sound of silence

From far away, the huskies call

- the sound of silence

Something quite phenomenal occurs in the Arctic Circle. You can hear the sound of silence.

That may seem like an oxymoron, and perhaps it is.

It took me a while to figure out what was different, but I eventually realized it just by standing still alone on the road.

It was quiet.

Supremely quiet.

There was no wind at all. A unique attribute to that part of Lapland I stayed in (the remote area of Suomu).

When I breathed, I saw my exhale frosted in the air. It was an average -20°C most days.

Thank goodness there was no wind to perpetuate the chilling cold, and that intensified the silence.

But the most interesting thing was it’s not a lonely silent.

In the city, I am surrounded by people and can feel more lonely than ever.

In the Arctic, I was surrounded by nothing but pine trees for miles and miles, with some cabins around where we lived, and the resident hotel resorts.

But I was never lonely on the snowy trail, away from the constructs of people. There was an easy chill (pun intended?), an easy suspension of energy, to the air. It felt charged but not pulsating. It felt alive.

It continues to intrigue me how nature always emerges with quiet resilience, whereas humans can activate themselves so much in a day and still feel dead inside.

Occasionally, the huskies called from afar. One time, I stumbled upon a lithe creature bounding away from me in the forest.

Many times, the snow fell, and I’m sure they vibrated with their own silent sound too.

One night there was a particularly beautiful moon.

I thought of you… looking at the moon. Though maybe I forced it.

To hear shattering laughter was a strange sound one day. Some relatives of the hotel owner were there to visit, and one of them was just so joyful to be there. She called hello to me down the path and skipped along merrily.

Can humans co-exist with the sound of silence? Can we vibrate with the eloquent quietude of nature unperturbed?

For the cabin fireplaces provided dear warmth, and that was manmade. And the paths were cleared, so I could walk on them, and that was done by hands too.

There’s so much beauty in natural silence.

Poem above by Lonely Girl, Lonely World.

Image provided by Unsplash.