I recently learned that when everything around us becomes silent, we can actually hear our own bodies. Our heartbeat, our breathing, even the sound of blood moving inside us becomes noticeable.
Last June, just after sunrise, I visited one of the quietest places in the world—Anza-Borrego Desert State Park in Southern California, about 50 miles from San Diego. I climbed a group of red and brown rocks and lay down on my back. At first, it felt completely silent. Then, slowly, I began hearing sounds from my own body—my stomach after coffee, the rush of blood in my head.
Suddenly, what sounded like a helicopter passed by. It turned out to be a hummingbird hovering near my face. In such deep silence, even small sounds feel loud.
Anza-Borrego is California’s largest state park, spread across more than 600,000 acres. Because of its size, you can walk for hours without seeing another person. In September 2024, it was officially named a Quiet Conservation Area by Quiet Parks International, an organization that works to protect the quietest places on Earth.
Living in Los Angeles means constant noise—traffic, helicopters, sirens, and construction. I’m always surrounded by sound, often wearing headphones just to control it. So when I heard about this quiet park, I felt drawn to it. I hoped silence would help me relax and reset.
As we entered the park before sunrise, the mountains glowed orange and yellow. Matt measured the sound level—it was just 26 decibels, about as quiet as a ticking watch.
He explained that natural sounds, like birds or wind, are not considered noise. Noise is sound that doesn’t belong—like cars, planes, or machinery. Even animals that aren’t native to the area can be considered noise pollution.