The mountains are great stone bells; they clang together like nuns. Who shushed the stars? There are a thousand million galaxies easily seen in the Palomar reflector; collisions between and among them do, of course, occur. But these collisions are very long and silent slides. Billions of stars sift amont each other untouched, too distant even to be moved, heedless as always, hushed. The sea pronounces something, over and over, in a hoarse whisper; I cannot quite make it out. But God knows I have tried.
The imagery in this quote portrays mountains as massive, resonant entities, akin to bells that evoke a sense of grandeur and silence. The notion of galaxies colliding suggests vastness and the slow, silent nature of cosmic events, where stars drift past each other without interference, emphasizing the solitude and distance of the universe. This illustrates a tranquil yet overwhelming scene of the cosmos, where each star exists without concern or urgency, encapsulated in the quietness of space.
Dillard's reflections on the sea convey an attempt to grasp the elusive messages communicated by nature. The repetitive, indistinct sounds symbolize the persistent quest for understanding, highlighting the limitations of human comprehension in the face of the vast, mysterious universe. Her struggles to decipher these signals reinforce a universal theme of seeking meaning within the complexity of existence, suggesting that, despite the endless beauty and wonder around us, the essence of life often remains just out of reach.
