Noise. Sound. Ambiance. Atmosphere. Mood.
I grew up with a cacophony of sound.
Setting: Within a five mile radius of New York City. A number of airports. I was alive before they outlawed sonic booms. Suburbia. Lots of kids, baby boomers, almost every house had them, lots of them. I was the oldest of six. The Television was never off. Music came from radios and stereos. Our house was less then three blocks from a highway.
Mountain Man likes his quite and hardly ever puts his hearing aid in except for church. He grew up in the country.
I find that for most of my life I have had music playing in the background. One of my personal philosophies is that everyone should have a musical score playing in the background of their life like in the movies. I like to set the mood of my day and change it when necessary. I’ve been known to put the TV on for company occasionally. Not that I need it. No we can go for days or weeks without it. But it doesn’t happen often.
On Nine Eleven the quiet was deafening out in the country. The birds stopped singing and the bug’s noises hurt my ears. You could hear for miles and miles through the stillness. No planes, trains or automobiles. No lawn mowers or work noises. People talked in hushed whispers. I could hear the few occasional vehicles all the way down in the valley. It was creepy strange. I never want to experience that again.
But I am ready to listen. I will pick a day each week to hear the quiet in my life. I will take the ear phone off my head and listen to the music of life around me. If I’m lucky I might even hear a Wood nymph dancing in the woods one day.