In Praise of the Sound of Silence

A remarkable number of our guests write poems about Buckhorn. Teresa Potter penned this gem about her experience in Cottage One. 

The silence is deafening.  Couldn’t a little birdie chirp for me? Couldn’t a small green grasshopper rub his sandpaper legs for me? Couldn’t a brittle twig that has been on a tree for a hundred years fall for me?

Why won’t I hear the pitter-patter of the redtail fox as he runs by my cabin? He’s there. Where are the snap, crackle, and pops that are ordinary in any old cabin.There must be a mother mouse nearby snuggling and feeding her young. Squeak. Oh no, the only sound is silence.