If writing about sound is difficult, then writing about silence must be almost impossible. Kathleen Jamie does it beautifully:
“Slowly we enter the most extraordinary silence, a radiant silence. It radiates from the mountains, and the ice and the sky, a mineral silence which presses powerfully on our bodies, coming from very far off. It’s deep and quite frightening, and makes my mind seem clamorous as a goose. I want to quell my mind, but I think it would take years. I glance at the others. Some people are looking out at the distant land and sea; others have their heads bowed, as if in church . . . How long we sit there I don’t know. I only know I’ve never heard anything like it, a silence that could dismiss a sound, as wind would dismiss a feather. Five minutes, ten, minutes in a lifetime.”
Kathleen Jamie Sightlines (London: Sort Of Books, 2012), p4.
She gives the silence a content, a force and direction direction, and a sense of being, without turning it into a noise.