technicality meets creativity

Soundwalking

 I hear the jingle of my keys on my wrists

But I get used to this repetitive sound, and I soon drown it out

As I let in the constant, rhythmic cricket-like hum

I journey closer into the park

it sounds almost like an electrical hum

But I pass by an even louder hum, that drowns out that of nature’s, that of the trees’

it’s a Sunday afternoon, not many voices around, people are hiding inside

scared of the obligations that come with Sundays

scary, but if only they knew how serene they could be

how serene I am

 

I approach the Hahn woods, the back entrance to Lullwater

the cricket-like chirping gets louder

but the cars interfere with my peace

doppler-effect whirring and whooshing past my ears

 

it sounds like they are screaming now, the crickets

do crickets even come out in the day-time?

the chirps of singular birds

the metallic clanking of a dog’s leash

a father and his kids

my feet on mud

squish of my shoes in mud

 

it’s like a symphony that the creatures make

that they compose

as if their director is the trees, his arms the soft sway of the branches and leaves

you can almost hear it

all in rhythm

but all out of rhythm too

at the low end is the continuous hum of the crickets

the same ones I heard from far away as I entered the Hahn woods

 

and the birds chirp to add in

and there’s some more chirping

it sounds like a tremolo or phaser effect has been added

this musician comes in and out, she’s not constant

she seems to know when it is her time to shine

 

I see a duck, but do I hear a duck?

does it make any noise in water?

I certainly cannot hear it as it

dunks its head in and out

 

I wonder if my phone can hear better than I can

I later confirm that it cannot

It’s not the same

the integrity of nature’s song is lost

the beauty exists only in my ears

and in these words

my phone sounds like static noise

it’s almost ugly, how grossly nature’s song is misrepresented

 

some things are maybe not meant to be recorded

to be kept inside a tiny little rectangular box

its ruins the melodic memories that I had, the tunes of the trees, the ballads of the birds

some things shouldn’t be heard that easily

with the tap of my finger

I think we should have to work a little harder to listen to the lullabies

 

the jingle of my keys is persistent

I hear it creep back in

 

there is a group of people walking behind me and I find it hard to filter out their words

their laughs

their love and their snide remarks

 

at first, I am annoyed

they disturb my peace

then I feel uncomfortable

every time I have taken a walk, I have my headphones in

listening to music

I feel strong urges to put my headphones in

to drown them out

 

but then I remember they’re a part of my soundscape too

and I embrace it

 

my feet on sand

my footsteps

they sound different across sand than they do on mud

but I like how soft I sound

my body gliding

not disturbing the music around me

like I am floating in a dream

 

another waterfall

but this one sounds different

this one sings even louder

telling all those around it to shut up and listen

as each droplet crashes

it’s like a chorus of individual globules

alone I imagine they are tiny but charming echoes

together they are so flamboyant, so fierce and lurid

 

I am now reaching Lullwater park

where I have been many times before

where I have completed some of my longest runs

but this time it’s different

this time I don’t have music in my ears to drown out nature’s songs

yes this time it’s different

because this time I’m truly present

 

it’s familiar

this walk.

yet

singular

foreign

novel

 

my feet on gravel

sounds crunchy

feels satisfying

 

the deeper I get into the walk

the more I’m able to discern the blurry line between sound and noise

I hear more chirping and less shrieking

 

I put in my noise cancelling headphones for a moment

just to feel the difference, just for a second

so, I’m left with the sound of my own breath

the internal creaking of my body only

 

but still, the high-pitched frequency of the crickets lingers

harmonious and in tune with the thumps of my footsteps

it’s a strange feeling indeed

 

I take them out and suddenly it’s so loud

the world around me shouts

I hear helicopter blades

so mechanical yet nevertheless akin to the sounds of the crickets

but deeper, more demanding

 

my feet on pavement

sounds safe

feels normal

 

as I edge back to the city

I hear sirens wailing

it’s a smack in the face

“reality exists”