Eyes closed

In the background I hear Elton, “Hold me closer Tiny Dancer…”

Outside there’s a whole other world of sounds.

The loudest is a muffled whirring and whizzing melodic tune that dominates the air and blurs at times…the never-ending swan song of the crumbling Gardiner Expressway.

Next, this timely visitor chimes in with its ceremonial bells, and comes pumping by with an urgency met perfectly with a deep bass rhythm. Tic-a-tic-a-tic-a-tic-a… occasionally interrupted by the ear-piercing screech of rusted brakes.

Then the odd car that slowly splashes in the puddles forming. Sometimes its a slow and dramatic splash, close to an art form if you time it right. Other times its a startling and brazen splash, and if you listen close enough, you just might hear the driver admit to a Napoleon complex of sorts.

The soothing rain drops are inconspicuous, whilst adding a layer of vivid interaction. They fall quietly, and sometimes they fall together, while others feel the need to linger just long enough to have their moment solo. They fall fat and heavy, or soft and subtle, on concrete, glass, steel and shitty plastic furniture.

It sounds beautiful.

Now, if you get lucky, you might even hear a pigeon coo. Perhaps you hear the soft clap of the air against their wings. Perhaps.

Together, its a strange type of chaos that I have come to enjoy. The sounds of home.