In an attempt to write an entry for Listverse (www.listverse.com) , I wrote the following.
Oh, I did not submit the entry as I deemed it to be inappropriate for the
intended audience.
For some people a comforting sound consists of the purr of a
Jaguar as it roars into life, and for others it is the purr of a new-born
jaguar in the wild. Some people find comfort in the clackety-clack of a train
on the track (oh, I know, I know – such a cliché) and others in the squeak of
rusty playground equipment being drowned by the bestial thunder of the
bulldozer.
It would be oh so simple to compile a list of clichéd sounds;
you know those which go “the sound of a new-born baby” or “the pitter-patter of
raindrops on the roof” or “the thump of your own heart”. But those sounds are
not the one I find to be worth repeating. So, here is my take on comforting
sounds.
The first time a child falls after just learning to walk, he
makes a curious sound – something between a cry and laughter as he cannot quite
understand what had just happened. Does it hurt or does he feel a strange joy
after discovering a new skill? That is a unique vocal and very human sound and
I challenge anyone to even try and imitate it.
As parents one are always apprehensive when their teenage
daughter goes on her first un-chaperoned date. Even though they pretend to be
cool about it, the wait in the bedroom for your daughter’s return is
excruciating and absolutely void of any thoughts of lying down to sleep. Then
there is that sound of the front door opening, closing and her footsteps up the
staircase, and that special sound of feet on the stairs ringing of confidence
and trust as if saying “I told you I would be OK”.
I simply love and find so much comfort in the sounds of
breakfast. It is as if every little note creates a symphony of anticipation –
the soft tinkle of the crockery and cutlery as the table is being set; the impatient
bubble and murmur of the coffee machine and the juicy sizzling of frying eggs
and bacon all blend to make a comforting masterful explosion of coordinated and
comforting sound.
After 40plus years of wedded bliss in a union with an
understanding partner, the most comforting sound I hear in the night is the
light snore of my companion, a sound which tells so much but mostly says “I am breathing
and alive” and then I know I can sleep easily.
In this country we have, especially in summer, massive
thunderstorms when rain tries to drive right through the windows, tree branches
groan and moan and then creakingly submit to the might of the wind and thunder
and lightning seems to herald the dawning of Armageddon, when suddenly it is
all over and so silent, that one can hear the last raindrop on the corrugated
iron roof. This is when you hear the hesitant and worryingly cheep of a bird
frantically looking for its mate. And when the mate replies and the pair burst
out in a joyful reunion of chirrups, that is a comforting sound, saying all is
well in the world.
Willie
September 2013
September 2013
