Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

In the Bowl

When people talk about the hum of civilization, they're usually referring to the hectic bustle and clamor of human life in towns and cities. But there is a more literal hum of human civilization. It is so subtle, so quiet, that we don't consciously take note of it.

It is the vibration of tires on pavement, the murmur of human voices, the quiet sounds of a thousand different televisions and radios simultaneously playing a hundred different channels, the ringing of doorbells, the closing of car doors, and the sixty-cycle hum of electrical systems. These noises, most of which are distinctive enough to be recognized when heard up-close and personal, are indistinguishable at a distance, and combine in a wash of sound which is barely registered by the human brain.

But here, at the base of Redington Mountain, you are in a natural bowl - surrounded by Redington to the west, Crocker Mountain to the north, Sugarloaf and Spaulding Mountains to the east, and Mount Abraham to the south. Within this giant bowl there is not a bit of civilization. No cars, no trucks, no televisions, no radios, and no electrical hum.

There is only you.

So stop for a moment. Don't speak. Don't move. And, for a moment, don't even breathe.

In that moment, you will feel as though there is something wrong with your ears. It's not that you can't hear. You will still hear the sound of the wind rustling through the autumn leaves. You will still hear the occasional call of a bird. The quiet gurgle of the stream will be there. But underneath all of that, you will feel as though something is missing.

It is the hum of civilization.

And there, in that moment, perhaps for the first time in your life, you will have the very powerful sensation that you are the outsider, you are the trespasser, you are the one who does not - and never will - belong.

That feeling will be immediately followed by the very startling realization that you would be more surprised to see another human on this trail than to see a black bear come lumbering out of the woods.

Then you'll decide it's time to start moving again.

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