One day we had more than our fill of noise as the “lawn maintenance/gardener” people blew things around all day. This caused me to think about the sounds in my life. What sounds do I associate with places or times of my life?
I love being aware of birdsong. It’s wonderful when spring arrives and I awaken to the birds’ singing. Birdsong was very much a part of my awareness at North Street. Jack Griffin was staying with us when he was about 3. He said the birds woke him up early every morning. The birds could get quite loud. I miss Ohio’s cardinals – the chirps and flash of color. Cardinals don’t live here in Kirkland. Crows, ravens, starlings – whatever the multitude of black birds are called - they’ve always seemed ominous to me – in Ohio and here.
Out here I noticed a black bird with a long blue tail. When I asked someone about it, she derisively said, “That’s a sky rat.” (a Steller’s Jay). We see robbins and nondescript brown birds that I also saw in Ohio. I’m still not used to hearing sea gulls daily. There are all sorts of gulls and I’m not sure which are most common in this area. When we go to Juanita Bay Park we are entertained by the multitude of birds and ducks we see and hear. We need to get better at identifying them. We do recognize the red wing blackbirds and mallard ducks.
They seem to be a constant here – almost year round – rain or shine. It can get more than a bit annoying. The “gardeners” for our townhouses arrive on one day – they blow things around for a few hours. On another day the “gardener” for the four houses that are parallel to our townhouses arrives. Each house has very little yard. Somehow he is able to putter around, raking, weeding, and blowing most of the day. We can see and hear him out our office window. I’ve been tempted many times during this last year to go out and advise him on his work pattern. If he’d do his dirt spreading activity all at once instead of in bits and pieces, he wouldn’t have to blow the same area several times in one day. Then there’s the blowers that come with the grounds maintenance crew for the office complex across the road from us. The condominiums on the other side of us also have gardeners who do their blowing on another day. That’s a lot of noise spread throughout the whole week. We’ve been surprised that the blowing continues even in the rain.
Freeway Noise – White Noise – Waves
On North Street you could sometimes hear the white noise of traffic on I-270 off in the distance. On Kirkland Avenue we can barely hear freeway noise in the distance. Recently I realized how similar this white noise is to the sound of ocean waves in the distance.
There’s not much noise from people or dogs (other than Jack and his man - see below). We live in a very quiet area. North Street was relatively quiet too. Every once in a while in our 34 years there someone had a noisy dog. Fortunately that didn’t happen very often. We’ve always been fortunate to have relatively quiet neighbors.
When we moved into our place in Kirkland, we frequently heard intense and often angry calls and conversations directed to “Jack.” We figured Jack was a child, a sometimes disobedient child. Then we connected the shouts with a very small dog who lived in the end house in the group of four homes that are squeezed onto a narrow lot that runs alongside our lot. Jack and his man walked out to the street many times during the day. From our office window we could see them going out to do Jack’s business. Often Jack was independent. When Jack strayed into the street, the next time he trotted out, he was on a leash, head hung low. Soon Jack would win? earn? his freedom and he’d trot out to the street unleashed and way ahead of his man. Recently Jack and his man (the man had a wife but she rarely took Jack out), sold the house and moved. We miss seeing Jack and his man and hearing the man’s conversations with Jack.
Other North Street Sounds
For years our neighbor Bill Brown whistled. He was a wonderful whistler. He worked outside a lot and usually whistled while he worked. A while before we moved we realized Bill didn’t whistle as much as he used to. We missed his melodies.
Fire sirens were a frequent part of the soundtrack of life on North Street. When we moved in, the fire station was on High Street just a block south of us. Years later the fire station moved into new quarters built where the Volkswagen dealership used to be, north of us on High Street.
Not long after we joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we hosted early morning seminary in our basement. We were close to the high school, so the Worthington students had only a short walk to school after seminary. I had breakfast while the teenagers and their teacher met in the basement. I remember how wonderful it was to hear the gospel being taught and discussed in our home.
Trains – on quiet nights when the windows were open we could hear trains in the distance. I like hearing trains. The sound brought back memories of train rides from London to see our grandparents in Evanston, Illinois.
Warm nights with the sound of crickets and cicadas – that’s summer to me. Those sounds (and the accompanying heat and humidity) will no longer be part of our summer now that we are in Kirkland.
Joe had the North Street house wired for sound. Using both wired and wireless connections, we could play music from his computer or from the satellite system all over the house. People often commented on how nice the soft, background music was. We favored easy listening and classical music. When I was gone, Joe favored “Madame Butterfly” cranked up as high as possible. When Joe was out of the house and I was cleaning I liked cranking the volume up for Sarah Brightman, especially “Phantom of the Opera,” and music from the 1950s and 60s.
At first almost everything was different for us, even the sounds. We knew the people were speaking English, but it took a while for our ears to become attuned to the Bahamian dialect. At night we heard toads and figured they had to be huge based on the sounds they were making. Turned out they were very small creatures. The sound of the wind in the fronds of the palm trees was soothing to me.
Sometimes at the end of a long, hot and muggy day, we would go to a certain place, sit on a wall where we could catch a breeze and listen to the soothing sound of the ocean waves. We were far enough inland that we couldn’t hear the ocean waves from our apartment.
Nassau and its people were very loud compared to other places we have lived. Car horns were used as a form of communication. We’re not sure we ever figured out the code. Bahamians tend to talk loudly and can carry on simultaneous conversations with many people in different parts of a room. Christmas in Nassau brought its own set of differences, one of which was hearing Christmas carols played on steel drums.Our first week in Nassau we were awakened in the night by the sound of drums in the distance. Our duplex had metal bars on the doors and windows and razor wire at the top of the chain link fence that enclosed our back yard. We’d been advised to always be aware of safety and security. Beyond our chain link fence topped with razor wire there was what we thought of as jungle. The Bahamians called it bush. As we listened to the sound of the drums and other unfamiliar sounds of the night, we wondered who or what was going to walk out of that jungle. Later we learned the drums and music came from a group that was practicing for the national celebration of Junkanoo.
Towards the end of our mission a pastor of a Seventh Day Adventist congregation rented the other side of our duplex. The group rehearsed at his house for a performance of the Bahamian national anthem. Hearing the Bahamian national anthem coming through the night was a never-to-be-forgotten experience.
A young couple lived across the street from us. They had two children and a nanny to care for the children. About 5 every night you could hear the nanny dealing with the children. The woman of the house started playing Kenny Gee music as her day wound down and she prepared for her husband to come home. We often saw her outside with a drink as this beautiful music wafted in the often hot, humid Nassau air. To this day, 16 years later, this is what I picture and feel when I hear Kenny Gee.
We grew to love the sounds of The Bahamas. Those sounds belonged to a country and a people we love – our Bahamian brothers and sisters.
Sounds of Childhood & North Oak Street
I just turned 66. Childhood is very far away. I don’t have vivid memories of many sounds from childhood. One that comes to mind – the slam of the back screen door. Dad had the door fixed so it would latch shut since most children wouldn’t take the time to make sure the door closed. I don’t know how Mom felt about it; she probably heard it what seemed like hundreds of times in a day. It feels like a reassuring sound to me.
What would our childhood have been without music? The record player, the radio, and then CDs – seems like there was always music in the background of our lives. Mom liked opera and Broadway plays. She had a beautiful voice and sang along with the soundtracks. At some point she stopped singing. It would be interesting to know why she stopped. Classical music was a staple but Mom and Dad liked other sorts of music too. Organ music, big bands, brass bands, klezmer were types of music we often heard. Dad built a cabinet for a radio and record player. That was in the living room until we closed their house after their deaths. The kitchen always had a radio and later a CD player. After Mom and Dad died, friends were at the house going through the collection of tapes and CDs to see what they would like to have. One young boy asked if we had any country music. Tom didn’t miss a beat, “What country are you thinking of? Scotland? England?” and so forth. When Dad was hospitalized with pneumonia at the end of his life, the CD player and a stack of CDs went with him.Piano – Mom was quite a pianist but had to stop playing when her fingers started curling up. I don’t remember her playing the piano. Dad often played the piano. We were told Mom was a much better player. But Dad enjoyed playing and wasn’t concerned about his skill level.
Did Mom use a whistle to summon us home? Seems to me I remember a whistle or something similar. Dad went through a period when he used a boatswain’s whistle to round us up. Then there was the Navy clock in the hall. It chimed every 15 minutes. Mom and Dad always had a cuckoo clock in the kitchen. That was part of life on North Oak Street.
I have vivid memories associated with certain songs. That’s a whole other topic. Certain sounds can instantly take me back to a place and time in the distant past.
