Sounds in the night

There is a rhythm to a neighborhood and a house as they settle in for the night. When you move to a new place it takes time to tune in to what is the norm. From the turning on and off of forms of entertainment in adjoining houses or apartments, to the opening and closing of garage and car doors, to the creaks in the floorboards, we subconsciously listen for what become familiar and expected sounds that symbolize the end of an evening.

Some sounds can represent community or at least remind us we are not alone on this planet. My neighbor's have a newborn and I occasionally hear a midnight tiny wail. In hotels one might be confronted with hacker's cough or a loud TV in the next room. Pitter patter on the roof doesn't usually mean Santa or reindeer. It can be the delightful and soothing sound of gentle rain or an unwanted raccoon. 

Teenagers think they are quietly slipping into the house, whether before or after curfew, but at least one of the parents either awaken or are still awake waiting for the click of the key, the tiptoeing on the stairs that indicate a safe return. These days evening sounds include the annoying song of the ice cream truck and overnight white noise includes the hum of air conditioners. 

Urban and rural day-to-evening-to-night transition sounds can be opposite. Residents of cities that never sleep have a different definition of quiet than farmers. I shutter to think of the places in the world, near and far, where darkness means gunshots and power struggles not between hawks and mice but gangs and rebels.

This time of year the birds begin their songs earlier than in fall or winter. Yesterday at 4:48 a.m. I heard the chirp of a cardinal and smiled a good morning to the world. Then I realized that I was hearing it at regular intervals. It was a distant smoke alarm battery alert and I ended the night and started my day with a chuckle.

Marilyn