Last year, I wrote a post inspired by Kate Messner’s book, 59 Reasons to Write. It was a lesson encouraging the writer to listen to the sounds surrounding them. I sat on my patio and listened. Then I wrote this post. Many new homes were being built in our neighborhood, construction sounds dominated. Heavy trucks rumbled by for a new road. Those were the sounds on that day.
Have the sounds changed in a year? Let’s find out, I close my eyes and listen to . . .
A muffled r-r-r-r in the distance, from traffic a mile away. The motorcycle revs its engine to sound like an angry wasp. A train blasts its horn as it passes through an intersection, since its quite distance it is more melodious than not.
Wind sounds in the trees reminds has me visualizing a wave coming to shore. Gently the water laps at your feet, building in intensity until the wave wants to topple me. The wind begins with a whisper, sliding through the evergreen trees, building in speed creates rustling, until it reaches a brisk crescendo. It drops and there is silence for a moment as it draws its breath to repeat. Wind chimes from patios tinkle as they are not in the thrust of the wind.
Chirps, cheeps, coo-coos, trills of birds fill the air. A conversation, not meant for me to understand, ensues. I lose the bird-speak as the wind builds in intensity, but when it dies down the chatter of the feathered friends has not lessened.
Sharp nails on metal cause me to open my eyes and search for the source. A robin has landed in the curved crook of the downspout. It gives me one exasperated chirp as if to say, “What are you doing here?” before taking flight.
The landscape of sounds have changed in a year. I prefer the sounds of nature surrounding me on my patio.