While we walk there is no radio or t.v. droning out our thoughts. We can turn within. Some days our attention is very much turned outward by crusty icy bits or unusual sticks or new developments along the route.
Nothing is blinking or demanding handheld attention.
Speaking involves repeating ourselves too many times.
Silence prevails--until it is interrupted by the discovery of an abandoned but still glowing glow stick or until something occurs to us that is too good to hold onto. Silence trumps chatter while the rain drips down from the trees onto our noses, while the saturated snowflakes silently blanket us all around and the as the sparrows chirp happily awake.