outside the window

There is a certain hum to our neighborhood. It seems to bring a measure of comfort as the day passes, and I love it when I can stay home all day and listen. I hear a garbage truck arrive early in the morning, know the sounds of the mail truck as it squeaks its brakes closer and closer to our house, or the muffler of our neighbor's car arriving home at night. It's interesting how even the sounds of construction, such as a new roof going on, sounds good ... it must have to do with the joy of improvements. We live in the suburbs of our city with a parcel of woods in our back yard. Think "bird sanctuary." Chirping birds compete with the distant sounds of traffic or a passing motorcycle. I've come to recognize some of the birds's songs, and the familiarity is nice. One particularly melodic guy sings from the same area of our yard every day.

Youngest son moved his family here last week and we helped scrub the house and move them in. They are living up near the city, and their neighborhood sounds are so different from ours. On the day we were cleaning, the weather was delightful and the windows were open (a rare treat here in the humid south). I wasn't feeling too great so sat on the floor for awhile and was lulled into a nap by the sounds I heard out the open window. A distant city bus, hammers on a building project, church bells on the quarter hour, neighbors chatting on their front porches, the beeping of a truck backing up, a soft breeze rustling through the trees ... Funny how such humdrum sounds can help you sleep.

Sometimes I think I pay too much attention to my environment and wish I was less "in tune" with things.  That's when I turn on a great symphony or some country music and "ignorance" becomes "bliss."