Published in The Atlantic in 1994
“Seeing a partial eclipse bears the same relation to seeing a total eclipse as kissing a man does to marrying him.”
Wherever there is stillness there is the still small voice, nature’s old song and dance . . A meditation on silence and other matters.
On a Saturday morning in early September, she climbed the barnyard fence and strolled through the pasture. Stillness. The silence gathered and struck her and this is what she saw.
Observing an especially fertile growing season outside her home in the Blue Ridge Mountains, the poet and essayist Annie Dillard reflects on the life cycle and the universal impulse to grow and reproduce.