Humans avoid silence because it imitates the afterlife.

People often talk more and listen less. The idea of silence: daunting and formidable; unadulterated stillness agonizing to the mind. Humans, are dismayed at the thought of enduring silence, fearful of the imposed solitude, yet content after discovering the clarity found therein. Silence becomes a glimmering shield used to preserve and shelter inner demons from interrogation. They run from it as if it was a curse that would cripple their fragile senses. But within silence trust is found. Within silence, humans find the deepest form of tranquility, when they are voiceless in the face of reality.
 

A quiet desert breeze broke the silence as it whispered in my ear like grains of sand. The dusty hills met the skyline in a fiery crimson blaze, the glow peaking over red cliff tops making shadow’s dance below. Saguaro arms enveloped in needles clung to the clouds while paltry shrubs scattered across the landscape. A smooth path forced its way through the wild terrain. Its drawn out slopes slicing through the grime in the earth. I took a heavy breath hoping for that crisp northern air but instead receiving a lung full of dry heat. Sighing with discouragement, I stared out at the expanse of the desert. My heart, longing for the lush green fields I was accustomed to. The warmth wrapped around my body, almost suffocating in its fever. I switched to limited breaths so as not to be swallowed by it.
   

My hands gripped the uncomfortable rubber handles of the bike. I dragged it over to the onset of the path. It had been years since I’d last touched one. The elevated terrain of the desert wasn’t something that was known to me either. Apprehension trickled down my spine like a light touch. I glanced over at my mother, my expression betraying my distress. Her easy going profile turned pensive at mine. She raised a questioning brow, asking without saying.

I felt my lips press together as I schooled my features into one more mild. I nodded to pacify her and hoisted myself onto the aged bike. Anxiety clamped my mind as I clasped onto the handles, my feet barely reaching the pedals. I wobbled before I hastily lowered myself off. Looking ahead,  my mom had already taken off.  Concerned at the thought of being left behind, I hurriedly dropped the seat before lifting myself back up. I flew through the incline, my hair dancing behind me with the wind. As I reached the peak, I saw the sunrise in all its glory.

Alluring strands of marigold and bewitching stains of violet covered the sky. The sun a smolder of cerise as its rays reached out to enliven every crevice it could grasp. The heat no longer felt suffocating as the wind cooled down my skin. I felt my face break out into a blinding smile as I sailed down the slope.  Spotting my mother up ahead, I called out with delight as I came up from behind her. She glanced over and smiled as I caught up. Her expression fell as she took me in. I raised my eyebrows in question, and she motioned for me to pull over.

“What’s the matter?” I asked perplexed.

“You’re bleeding,” she muttered distractedly, her hands digging through her backpack.

I was about to disagree when I felt blood dripping down my face. Immediately I examined my skin for any cuts but soon discovered the source. A bloody nose. I let out a tense chuckle and help my head forward, clutching tissues to my nose. Afterward, I would find out my accident was due to the dry air.

Little did we know not one hour later an ambulance would come surging through the desert.

Although a small note of apprehension remained in the back of my mind, we were back on track. The meager shrubs on either side of the path flew by as we raced through the desert. My mom's pace soon slowed down, and I glanced over. She let out an exhausted gasp and motioned me to go on ahead. I obliged.

My feet worked together like a well-oiled machine as I climbed each hill, my body loving the resistance of the wind when descending. The sun cast a warm glow on my skin as the doubt in my mind was wiped away. With the adrenaline rushing through my veins it never dawned on me that the distance between my mother and I was steadily growing. By the time I finally noticed she was nowhere in sight. I dragged my bike over to the side of the road deciding to wait until she showed. She never did. As the number of minutes grew so did my uncertainty. Every shift of the wind felt like a breath against my neck. Ragged desert birds chanted around me with mockery. I squinted still seeing no sign of my mom. With a nervous grunt I hopped back onto my bike and followed the road back.

The first thing I saw was the bike. It laid on its side and looked as through a wild animal had taken its claws to the white paint. Next, I saw the helmet, broken in two and scattered across the road. My breath hitched as I saw my mom lying face down a couple of feet away, unmoving. I threw myself off my bike and sprinted over. Upon reaching her, I wasted a few precious seconds as I stood there, my mind blank. My body was tight with adrenaline practically shaking while I thought of a course of action. My mind raced to keep up with my body as I squatted down and gently placed my hand on her back, desperate to see if she was still breathing. A steady rhythm of breath made my knees weak with relief. I called out to her my voice brimming with heartbreak but her small form lay silent. I felt my teeth gritted together with an abundance of dread.

Seconds later my eyes spotted my mom's phone a couple feet away, the case completely demolished but the device itself still functioning. I called 911.

The operator's voice was soothing and calmly asked for my location. It was like someone pulled away the ground beneath my feet. My mind tore itself apart. I knew we were in a National Park. But of which one I had no clue. I let out a sob of frustration. It was then that  I felt the first tears spill down my cheeks. Frustration ate at my soul while I racked my mind for some memory or clue. Then it dawned on me. I could’ve kicked myself right then for wasting time as I checked my mom's phone for our location. I relayed the information back to the operator who assured me an ambulance was on its way. In the meantime, they talked me through carefully through rolling my mom onto her back. Then asked me to list her multiple wounds. A lump in my throat tightened as I took a brief glimpse. Severe cuts ran across her forehead and disappeared beneath her hair. All of the skin on the left side of her face was scraped from the rough tar. Her upper lip looked like it had been cut through. I heard my voice crack while I forced out the words. My eyes lowered to my mother's pale hand.

Later I would forever regret not squeezing it. Not giving her some solace and let her know she wasn’t alone. But I didn’t. I sat there clutching the phone like it was my lifeline even after the operator had hung up. The silence of the desert was all that was there to keep me company. To keep me sane.

Silence is a sword one draws upon when faced with the bare truth. We avoid it, but we appreciate it’s simplicity. It keeps us comfort in our emptiest of moments and abandons us in our uttermost joy.

It was in silence that I found my comfort.