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Morning noise

July 26, 2016

 

 

 

I live on a noisy street.  I live in a noisy city.  I’m fairly adaptable and do enjoy the sounds of life.  People walking by talking loudly late at night.  The odd rumble of an exhaust heavy car revving up on the road behind the house.  The group of odd characters who live about four houses down and decide to have a rip roaring fight around 11:00 at night.  The sound of base thumping cars parked in the road waiting for their dates to scurry out into the night.  The group of men, obviously drunk, bellowing into the night air until a woman yells out of her window to “shut the hell up!”  I can get used to anything.  

 

Until this morning…. I am on summer holidays.  I love to sleep especially when I don’t have to wake up at a set hour.  It feels so luxurious.  Until these past two mornings when the construction on the flat next door started at 8 AM.  It’s not the sound of the construction men talking.  It’s not even the sound of the odd hammering.  It’s the sound of the drilling.  DRILLLLLLLLIIIIIIINNNNNNNNGGGGGG.  It rattles the entire house.  Especially when you live in a Victorian row house, constructed over a 100 years ago and not known for sound proofing.  The house shakes and the drill conjures visions of bad dentist appointments but only bigger.  Much bigger. 

 

I slam my window down.  Hoping they will notice my small act of defiance.  It doesn’t do any good.  They have a job to do and ultimately it will be great for the neighbourhood. It sucks to have this coincide with my first days of holiday but I have to go with the flow.  It is interesting that I don’t always appreciate the silence until it is gone. When I visit my parents, who live in the country and are a good 15 minute drive to the nearest small town, I notice the quiet calm of the night air.  You begin to hear the “noise” of the animals, and the distant hum of the highway, but none of that “noise” compares to this morning.  Maybe it’s the sound of the machines.  The city is full of non-natural sounds, and perhaps our bodies know that we weren’t really created for them.  Well, whatever the reason, I will be grateful when the drilling subsides and I can go back to the loud street music, and early morning drunk conversations.  

 

 

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