A Soft Hum

You know why I love the mountains? 
Because they are quiet. 
Do you know why I love the beach in the morning hours? 
Because it is quiet.

This world is so loud. I've learned to let it just be noise, to be background. Unexpected noises make me jump. I hate using or hearing car horns. I avoid it at all costs. And press lightly when I feel I have to. Timid. Because I don't want to startle others... or myself, really. But the point is to be startled into action.

Growing up in a small house I tiptoed around. Not wanting to break the balance. And it wasn't to scare or creep up on unsuspecting siblings. It was only to avoid breaking the background hum. I became a master at the art of slipping around with minimal noise. I learned all the unique door squeaks and the person walks on the floor. Mind you, most of the time this was carpeted floor. I was that detailed in my trained hearing. 

I often notice the air conditioning switching on at work. I take note when the music changes at a coffeeshop. This morning, I heard the rain falling before seeing the splattered raindrops on the windshield.

I become in tune when the world has a soft hum. 

*written while construction rages at the office*