Fifth Journey Day 129: The Silence Beneath Voices

"The Silence Beneath Voices" — Mist drifts over tea slopes above the Black Sea, where sound thins and settles into green.

Date: September 14, 2025
Location: Rize, Turkey

Today’s entry arrives from Rize, on the rain-nourished Black Sea coast of Turkey, where terraced tea gardens climb the hills and mist is a familiar companion. The landscape breathes in salt, rain, and green, and daily life is tuned to leaves, harvest rhythms, and the hush of cloud slipping through valleys.

The Atmosphere of Khareef

This morning I left Trabzon and arrived in Rize. The change was small in distance, but it was clear that something had happened. The bus ride followed the coast, with the sea always on one side. It was restless and looked gray-green. When I got off, the air felt thicker and more moist. It was as if every breath was carrying salt and dirt. The city grew quickly into the hills, and every slope was covered with tea.

Quiet Moments at a Tea Stall

I walked into the fields for a few hours. The paths were narrow, and some were still wet from yesterday's rain. Dewdrops stuck to each leaf, looking like tiny lights on the green surfaces. The plants grew in neat rows, but the mist made everything appear as layers that blended into one another. My shoes got wet, and the smell of the ground was strong with every step. I stopped often to listen to the quiet sound of water trickling down channels and the faint sound of voices from far below. Even when it was still, the land seemed full of activity.

The Scent of Frankincense

Not frankincense here, but the steadier incense of wet soil, tea leaf, and steam. There was a moment when I put my hand on a tea bush and felt its leaves cool against my palm. It reminded me that life here is closely tied to this plant. The rhythm of the harvest, the smell of boiling water, the taste of something both bitter and steady... all of it is shaped by this plant. The thought was comforting, but I felt like an outsider standing on its slope.

Choosing Stillness Over Sketching

I let the notebook rest and stood inside the mist a little longer, listening. The quiet gathered around my hands and shoes, and I let it be the drawing for now.

A City in Sync with Rain

When I returned to the town, the mist was starting to clear, revealing the roofs and the shape of the coastline more clearly. The air was warmer, and I could hear more sounds — traffic, market calls, children. The quiet of the fields stayed with me, though, like a layer beneath the noise. Tonight, I feel both relaxed and awake, as if I've been touched by the mist.

Travel Notes

• Weather: Pale gray skies with light mist; 17°C; damp, humid air with a gentle breeze descending from the hills and a faint edge of sea salt.
• Scents: Wet earth, fresh tea leaves, coastal salt, and the soft steam of boiling water.
• Sounds: Water trickling through channels, distant voices from below the terraces, then the lift of traffic, market calls, and children as the mist thinned.
• Reflection: Tea shapes the day like a metronome — bitter, steady, comforting. I carried the hillside’s quiet back into town, a silence beneath the voices.

Continue the Journey

You may also enjoy another moment of listening amid bustle in “Fourth Journey Day 157: Market Fragments”, or step back to an earlier whispering wall in “Fifth Journey Day 127: The Wall Listens Sideways.”