“Sounds great!” I use “sounds” a lot in my texts and in my other writings; it’s as if I can hear someone speaking what they are writing. It’s a way to animate words. And I believe we can elevate our conversation this way. If we were speaking we would be listening. Listening and sound are an inseparable pair. Just like our two ears, we might, wisdom says, listen twice as much as speaking.

“Sound” is described by Dictionary.com as …”the sensation produced by stimulation of the organs of hearing by vibrations transmitted through the air or other medium.” And … “any auditory effect” … “a noise, vocal utterance, musical tone and or the like.”

Goodness gracious there is much to write about; what a delicious challenge. Here’s what soothes my soul in palpable ways.

Every evening before going to bed I close out my day with a half hour of a 963 Hertz music meditation. It is said, “to be the frequency of God.” It is a medium-high tone with a backdrop of instrumental music. There are three combinations which are my favourites from a selection of many. One musical loop includes the occasional sound of a flute; with its crisp clear as a bell sound. It clears my mind. These sounds help transmute my daytime vibe into a restful vibe and it helps me sleep better. And I imagine this music could be helping my dream state come forth.

I love the sound of nature. The first sound I hear is the bird. The caw of the Crow; the squawk of the Magpie and the whistle of the Red-winged Black bird. Each bird has different sounds for calling a mate; discouraging a predictor or simply communicating with its compatriots. A murder of Crows can send a chill down my spine as their collective voices sound aggressively loud.

One day I was working in the countryside, eating my lunch whilst sitting on the hood of my car. I could see a majestic Bald Eagle in the distance. It flew in my direction and it then flew low and right over my head. It was so low I could hear its wings on the wind. Whoo….whoo….whoo. I felt my whole body tingle.

The wind has a sound based on its velocity; whether it comes steadily, softly or in violent gusts. A slight breeze sounds like the restful exhalation of Mother Earth.

There is a rustle as leaves blow in the wind. We are stewards of a plot of land in the countryside. It is primarily forest with trembling Aspen; its leaves flutter in the wind; hence we call our place, Woodwinds. Woodwinds is a house of symphonic-like sounds.

We built a roof over the 25 foot holiday trailer, sitting on the land, where we cook, eat and sleep. Rain storms are loud when the rain pelts down and bounces off the tin roof. At times, it has a beat to it much like drumsticks striking a drum skin.

We have a catch basin for rain to water the nearby garden. The dugout teems with life; it is also a watering hole for coyote, deer and moose and is home to Mallard ducks and to frogs. An echo of quacks and rib-bits can be heard, periodically, throughout the day.

Woodwinds also gifts us with the sound of silence. When the winds aren’t blowing, the birds are napping and the insects are at rest; like at sundown; the silence is deafening.

This is the antithesis of living and working in the city of Edmonton. A city boasting a population of 1.2 million. There is a steady din to city life with the occasional piercing of the rumble-roar of a Harley Davidson motorbike or a police, fire or ambulance siren.

We attended a birthday party for two friends yesterday. There were about twenty of us. The weather was overcast with a sharp wind. We sat in a circle outside for most of the afternoon. Eventually, we migrated inside the house where it was warmer. We were pretty loud as we packed inside, wall to wall, in the kitchen and dining room. The sound of joyous conversation and oodles of laughter was good for the soul.

From 963 Hertz music to pop, rock, classical, opera and vocals, I love all kinds of music. I especially like the power that overcomes me while listening to the 4,4 beat of rock and roll on my car radio. At work, I listen to the pop rock of my youth and, for moments at a time, I don’t feel 65.

When I’m torqued up; I can hear myself think. My mind is so busy that it feels like there a sound to its rapid movement of thoughts. There is no sound, of course. It’s simply a figure of speech to indicate one’s state of mind. My mind is in a state of sparkling delight when I’m crafting words into sentences to put on a page. The creative process involves the heart and mind in a synergistic way and dances to a silent rhythm which when it’s working and is complete sounds simply perfect. To my ears anyways. The process strives to be clear, concise and paint a picture of sorts. And not a sound was uttered.

I hope this foster’s your appreciation of the sounds in your life. Be it your local birds, a city-like sound or the tone of a dear friend’s voice.

In gratitude,

~Barbara