What are your layers of sound?
Backstory
Here's another memoir exercise from the class I teach. I asked the students to write what they hear in layers. Even silence is not silent, so listen: what do you hear first, next, and next? I'd love to know your answers. Mine from class today:The crashing waves often drown out my thoughts, but even on days when the water is calm and the silver below the water sparkles like the Indian legend that borne this bodied water Silver Lake, I don’t hear the to do lists, the city traffic, the incessant talking in my daily life. I hear squealing gulls, coo-looing loons, the splash and dip of catching a fish dinner that is camouflaged from my sight, but swaying just below the surface. On the best days, my favorite days, I hear the hum and roar of speedboats and the whine of jetskis before the flash of white fiberglass and neighborly acrobatics on wakeboard or trick ski. Always, the relentless tapping of cottonwood leaves, applauding the sky as the bleached tufts of cotton rain down.
by lillybrook in Six Words Questions on Feb 25, 2013 | 
| 
T-shirt
Comments
ba_miracle says,
The humming outside sounds like a huge electric bill next month.The sreeeeing in my ears was well earned...every past concert and competition level stereo system embedded permanently into all my current and future moments.
ba_miracle says,
*actually more of a "screeeeing" ...sreeee doesn't seem that bad ;-)Dean6805 says,
First and foremost, the many constant high-pitched whistles of tinnitus (et tu, BA?). Behind that I can hear the low whoosh of our heating system. Behind me are the noises of a shower: the intermittent hiss of water splashing, foot squeaks and thunks that are particular to a fiberglass tub accompanied by the whine of the exhaust fan.kathi_wright says,
the great horned owls are nesting in the neighborhood and they call out to each other, from high perches - hoot, hoot, hoot - their own form of a primal morse code. winds here are frequent and strong, at times howling, picking up leaves and any lightweight detritus, blowing it eastward with a vengeance. in the distance, the coyotes howl; they are making their way down from the hills to scout the barranca and the neighborhood streets, looking for a meal of jackrabbit or cottontail, and i hope not housecat.