“Silent Woods” is a gentle work for cello and orchestra by Antonin Dvorak. Interestingly, the title was not his own choice but was suggested by his publisher.
Dvorak’s original name for the piece translates from Czech more as “quiet” or “rest” — a condition he surely experienced during his long rambles through the forests of his Bohemian homeland and during his time in the New World.
It is quiet in the woods now.
Birds no longer sing the way they did in spring. Back then, males sang to attract mates and defend their territories. But now the nestlings have fledged, the breeding season is over and the parent birds are exhausted.
We may still hear a few calls and chirps, but the strong, insistent breeding songs have stopped. In fact, males have ceased producing the hormones that drive singing.
There’s another reason for the hush.
Most songbirds are molting now — shedding their worn feathers and growing new ones. This process requires enormous energy, leaving the birds sluggish. Without a full set of flight feathers, they’re also more vulnerable to predators. And so, they keep quiet, resting and conserving strength. The woods themselves seem hushed.
Soon, with fresh plumage and renewed energy, our songbirds will take wing, heading south for the winter.
But at Interlochen, with the campers gone, with rehearsals and concerts moved indoors, and without birdsong, we enter our own season of quiet — our own silent woods.
