Wednesday, February 1, 2012


Aside all of the obvious differences between being in Fredneck and Washington D.C., the city has a different sound. I don't mean normal city sounds and I also don't mean that the city is loud. The city's sounds are methodic and rhythmic and patterned. But even when I'm in the most secluded place, in the middle of a garden, plenty far from honking cars and squealing busses and rushing workers, I can hear the planes. They do not come and go like at home but are a constant rumble underscoring life in the city. It isn't loud and it doesn't keep me up at night and I have to focus to even notice it. But it is comforting in that it always there. I'm less scared of walking on dark city streets at night than of steeping out my back door into the woods at home. You never feel alone in the city, because you never are. Always there is something more than the rustle of leaves that always inspired so much fear.
So, can we pretend tat airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars?

No comments:

Post a Comment