Sounds of My Surroundings

I was excited to "hear" (get it!?) that one of our assignments this week was listening to the surroundings. Time moves so fast in the modern worlds that it's seldom that we have the opportunity to slow down and smell the roses, or in this case, listen to them. There are two places I find meaningful that I exercised this assignment at, Holden Beach and my father's beach house there. Both had various sounds that I otherwise would have overlook if I didn't give it much thought.

On the beach I laid out a towel and settled on top of it. It was pitch black that night and the only source of light was the reflection of the moon. The ocean roared as wave after wave crashed onto the beach. The swish swash of the water adjacent to my body grew louder and louder as the tide rolled in. A loud buzz passed by from a coast guard truck disrupted the natural sound for an instance. Strong gusts of wind blasted my ear throughout the violent waves, and I could not help but feel I was witnessing a hidden war zone in nature.

At my father's beach house down the road next to a busy canal, the sounds of water prevailed but in a different way. The shouting of neighborhood kids carried on for a short while. The motors of boats driving by hummed closer and closer until they passed and grew quieter in the distance. Seagulls were yelling at me, expecting to mooch off the granola bar I was snacking on. Wind would still carry on, and would rustle the leaves of the bushes and palm trees. I knew such sounds existed in this space, but they unified in this moment and created a symphony of coastal life.