I bustled about the city this morning, surrounded by the usual cacophony of city sounds: sirens, honking horns, radios blaring from minivans passing by. The noise is constant. In the midst of it all, I found myself remembering this summer and my five days in Herrnhut, Germany.
The whole time I was there, I never heard a television or a car horn. I don't even remember hearing a telephone. Now, I know all of those things were there, but I didn't have to hear them. The stillness was remarkable.
What I do remember is the sound of church bells on 
the quarter hour, echoing across the fields and pastures of green gold. Occasionally I would hear a single dog bark or the baas of friendly sheep by the roadside.
The harvesting machines sounded like a distant ski boat on a summer lake back home. Of course there were cars, but they were few and far between, and their sound seemed to easily dilute in the surrounding quietness.
The sights stay with me still- vegetable gardens next to blueberry bushes.
Flowers everwhere I looked, even in front of the local food market.
he plant nursery, a blackboard sign announced plants and produce for sale.
I stayed in one of the little towns right outside if Herrnhut which is itself quite small. (to be continued)
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