• The test was over for me, but the room sill stood at a level of unerring silence. Yes you still had the tips of pencils against the table, the movement of people's chair as their attention strayed from their own tests, the sigh of discontentment, the ruffle of tests that still had yet to finished. Just that level of silence among those noises left me irritated. An irritation that reminded me of that lint that you just can't seem to keep off that favorite black fleece jacket of yours.
    At first it didn't bother me because I had my focus forced onto finishing my test. When I finished that was wen it happened. I heard that tape, that scrape, even the sliding of the paper as it moved across the table. It unnerved me. How little sounds could suddenly be so loud to my ear. How a pin drop could be the ring of a bell. All because I finished my test. It was a scathing annoyance. A reminder of my lost concentration. Something in the back of my mind just wandered when the little sounds would get to me. With it my eyes would wander.
    It was that moment.
    Watching each and every March snowflake fall from the sky. In my mind I knew each was completely different, but as I watched them they felt so in tune. Each working so well together even though each had that distinct difference that made nature special. With out realizing it those taps, scrapes, brushes, those sounds just disappeared in that calming landscape of beautiful snowflakes floating, on by one, hundred by hundred. To me that was my never ending symphony. A symphony only I could hear something all my own. To me nothing could be more precious, more beautiful, calming, or more peaceful.
    It was my symphony, my peace, and my moment.
    In that silence.