Today’s post is inspired by this one from elsie tries writing. Soundtrack of a place:
I found a few quiet minutes on the back porch of my in-laws house today. They live on a small lake or large pond-I’m not sure of the appropriate term, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I intentionally sat down to listen. The soundtrack in my head (totally a riff on the “story in my head” because I’m a Brene Brown devotee) told me I needed to be working on planning for SSI, but I ignored it. Instead I listened to what was going on right in front of me.
The melody of the outdoors was carried by the songs of the sparrows, wrens, cardinals, and nuthatches; each played a different note. The percussion was taken care of by a pair of red-headed woodpeckers intent on getting the goods from an old oak tree. The crickets chimed in, but their solos were drowned out by the rumble of the traffic from a nearby road. Even a small town has its share of traffic noise in the late afternoon.
Listening harder, I heard a plane flying up high overhead, the splashing of the water on the pier and the sounds of my husband casting his fishing line. I was transfixed as I just sat still and listened. I felt like I had developed some sort of auditory superpowers which came in useful when I heard someone inside the house rustling the paper bag full of fried pies. I must admit, after my bout of listening, I felt refreshed-probably the lemon fried pie helped, too, but let’s go with the listening.