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”