An Auditory Walk

It's February, and cabin fever is setting in big time. Though the sun is shining , it's only 37 degrees and with the wind at 7 MPH, it feels more like 31 degrees. I had enough of the dull, winter landscape, and so I decided to go out for walk and instead of visually noticing anything, I would tune into sound for a change. As I walked down the sidewalk in my sneakered feet, I could hear the rhythm of my own gait. As I listened , I realized that my right foot is slightly louder than the left, making the steps sound like a heartbeat. In the distance, I heard the occasional faint tweet of a bird, and one mourning dove who sang a lonely coo. I could hear my own jaw as I chewed on gum, and in a small burst of wind, there was a tinkling wind chime that caught my attention. As I came up the street to a house where construction was in progress, I heard a loud tapping sound that was interrupted by a loud, man's voice. He was shouting a story about a jealous husband and a shotgun, and I hoped it was a joke he was telling. As I rounded the corner, the wind caught a pine tree and provided a gentle whooshing sound, while a dry crumpled leaf scratched it's way behind me. In a period of brief silence, I could hear the traffic of the highway in the far distance, and it almost sounded like the ocean. A dull clanking was heard, as a flag cord hit against a flagpole. Across town a train whistle sounded, and was drowned out by an overhead plane that roared, and then moaned away. Occasionally a car rolled by in crescendo and passed in decrescendo. I could tell the trucks by a roll and light rattle. The loudest of the vehicles, was the school bus, whose roar and grind had the added squeal of brakes, as it stopped short at the traffic light. It sounded like an elephant. Throughout the walk, wind chimes continued to rattle, tinkle and gong. My favorite sound was the dry leaves that still clung to the trees as the wind blew. Some trees sounded like rain, some like rattles, some like a slow burning fire. The smaller and more subtle of the leaf holding trees, sounded like whispers. I hoped their secret was that spring is almost here.