There have always been certain sounds that I associate with different times of the year, seasons, and sometimes places.
The sound of jets flying overhead will always be one I connect with my townhouse in Florida that sat across the bay from the Tyndall Air Force Base runways.
A lone trumpet playing taps ... Fort Hood, Texas where I could hear them being played every night from the Army post across the highway.
I don't think I have any good sound memories from Ashland, Wisconsin, or the Michigan Upper Peninsula unless it was the sound of the frog peepers announcing spring had finally arrived. Or the sound of quiet with the first heavy snowstorm that muffled everything outside into an eerie silence.
Here, however, in White Sulphur Springs there are certain sounds that I have already associated with it. The sound of the train blowing its whistle as it comes into or through the station. I've become so accustomed to it, that it no longer wakes me. This morning, the sound of church bells ringing, which didn't wake me but was a new sound I hadn't heard before.
Sounds of home...
In one of our homes a train ran through the bottom of the paddock attached to the house. I grew very fond of hearing it in the small hours...
ReplyDeleteYes! I feel the same about the train now.
DeleteThe sound of the air conditioner in our room, since it is such a blessing to have one, is comforting now.
ReplyDeleteI have to have that white noise also when I sleep, so have a fan running. When it is too cold for a fan, I have a small travel white noise machine.
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