Winter and silence in Anchorage: only when I worked out on the Aleutian Island chain, have I experienced a quiet so pronounced. The cold air absorbs the constant clamor of humanity. The noise is muted; the crisp edges smoothed into a dull whoosh that reverberates off the foothills to the east and one is reminded of the roar of bees swarming in the branches of trees. No, this is not silence, but something else entirely, yet I perceive it to be silence.