Extraordinary Sounds of the Ordinary

My husband and I sat in the early evening in usual manner. I was with my computer trying to decide on what to write about for this week’s article. My back door was open and through the screened door, I heard the cricket song welcoming the September dusk. I was wrapped in a light blanket as the chill permeated the evening air. My husband was finishing up kitchen duties following dinner. Whereas I’m ok with a lingering dish or two in the drying rack, my husband feels all’s right in the world with a spic and span sink. It was quite the mundane evening. And then, all of a sudden, without any sort of untoward weather pattern, the power went out. I’d like to report that we immediately retrieved our battery-ready flashlights or long lasting candles, but the truth is we’re pretty unprepared in the always-be-prepared department. Instead we just sat with the doors open, completely present to the cricket song. Dusk turned to darkness, and all we were left with were the sounds just beyond our back door.

And then we heard the bells. We live within ear distance of St. Leonard’s Church, so at the top of each hour, the bells ring. If my windows are open or I’m out walking, I hear the tower bells proclaiming their majesty. Inevitably, the melodic sounds pull me out of my thoughts to greater space. There’s something about church bells that invite full attention to the resounding chimes. I don’t know whether it’s the silence between gongs, if God’s summoning my notice, or if it’s the hour’s transition that stills me, but I am compelled to be present whenever I hear the bells ring.

The experience of welcoming darkness was to think about the other sounds from beyond my back door. The drum beats and brass sounds of the Centerville High School band fill me with youthful energy. Whether I hear the rhythmic repetition during after school practices or smile at the full throttle ensemble during Friday night home football games, the sounds of such energetic music make me want to grab a blanket and pull out my lawn chair.

I love hearing the sounds of giggle and playful banter from my littlest neighbors who overtake the cul-de-sac with their scooters and soccer games and imaginative play. Hands down, laughing children make the world a better place. I hear sirens accompanying first responders making their way to help those in need. I hear garbage trucks roar their way through neighborhoods; emptying one trash receptacle after another making all our lives so much more convenient. I hear school busses starting and stopping with confidence, opening their doors to children stepping their way towards a bigger world.

I realize in a few months as the chill overtakes the air, my I might not be so open to the sounds from beyond my back door. The long, cozy months of winter have their own appeal, but I sure do love to be connected to the world beyond my windows.

It took a while before power was restored to our house. After resetting the digital clocks and making sure our battery depleted phones were plugged into re-charge mode, I rested in gratefulness for the unfiltered and powerless evening we spent reflecting on the symphony of ordinary noises that make our world a truly extraordinary place. Surrendering to senses is a good exercise, sometimes. This particular evening, getting lost in the gift of sound while sitting in the dark turned out to be quite enlightening.