Ragged Edge of Silence: Chapter 1

I am reading The Ragged Edge of Silence: finding peace in a noisy world by John Francis. Each chapter has an exercise, so I will chronicle my responses here.

Chapter 1: Beginning

Exercise in listening to sounds

I am sitting in my dining room with one window cracked barely open to let in sound. Rain and cold also vie for entry into the house, and I can feel a cool, damp New England winter's breeze at my chair. I welcome the fresh air and the moisture. I will turn off the constant hum of the humidifier that battles with the forced air heating to keep our living space livable.

The most prominent sounds are the rain pattering against the windows and siding of the house and the regular whoosh of tires on wet pavement. An occasional bus hums by on Mass Ave, a few blocks away.

The wind chimes on the back porch ring, bell-like, in the wind. They rise and fall from clear to faint. And the wind gusts blowing across the window screens and through the mostly bare branches of the trees. It follows the contours of roofs and sighs at their sharp angles.

Running water in the gutters and on the pavement now appears in a traffic lull. It is almost the sound of a stream in the forest bubbling over rocks.

Now, faintly, a train in the distance adds a rumble to the assembled sounds, and a siren fades in and out.

A lone horn calls out in the distance, a driver letting others know of their misdeeds.

And the siren continues to hover in the background with the hum of distant traffic. The hum pulses. Perhaps the gusts of wind bring sound in even intervals or the beating of my own heart opens and closes my ears.