Have you ever stopped and simply just listened.
Listened to the world.
The ramblings of you’re own mind placed on hold as you absorb the sounds of this earth.
We sit quietly, he on the first step, I on the second. The concrete, green and faded, the corners chipped. How many others have sat on these steps daydreaming? Small spidery fingers walk across my back sending shivers down my spine. The sun behind us, its Spring fingers soothe my tired neck. The large frangipani tree above us preparing to reveal its true beauty. Green shoots just beginning to pierce from its bare spear- like branches. This warm spring sun sending perhaps the last early morning chill back into hibernation. A normally busy three year old unusually quiet. I relish these brief moments of silence. A pause from his constant questions as he ponders the great wonders of this world.
In the quiet, sounds begin to reveal themselves one by one like the layers of a cake. The main ingredient, the sponge, the only layer you notice if you are in a rush, with no time to savour. The noises from the street, sounds from beyond the thick ivy cover on these very welcome walls. Cars, trucks, lawnmowers, motorbikes, people, carrying on with their ordinary day. The patter of the perfectly padded walking shoes of a dog, the jingle of his lead as his owner guides him on his daily escape from the backyard. His nose in overdrive as he eagerly inhales the new smells outside his world. Muffled conversations from men at work, decisions on where they should place this nail and that bolt. The hum of an airplane overhead carrying people, always people on the move.
As we listen harder we begin to hear the sweet treat hidden between the sponge. Amongst these ordinary sounds, the birds, and their joyful song. Celebrating Spring, flowers in bloom and the wealth of farming insects tending to their crops. We lift our heads to look up, discover just who is singing these sweet songs. We see only rainbow flashes hiding between the leaves of a peppermint tree. Do we sound this happy if they stop and listen to us?
Before us, we see white butterflies, dancing amongst the petals, silently fluttering. An essence of gracefulness only nature can create. Reminding me that we do not always need words to be part of this world.
Then we hear it, the icing, without which our cake would just be ordinary. Hiding amongst the garden foliage, a muscician playing his tune. One lonesome cricket rubbing the top of one wing against the bottom of another. His beat is returned, a chorus ensues. This distictive sound envelopes us, loud chriping, we become hypnotised by its beat like the tribal drums from an African mud hut. The sound escalates as the sun moves higher in the morning sky. They are energised by the rising heat of the day. This is the sound that reminds me, that I am in a foreign land. This is the sounds that welcomes me home from my other land.
These days I delight in these brief moments of quiet to savour nature’s noises layer by sweet layer.
Are you able to stop and just be?
What noises can you hear?