An early morning in August and I take a moment to be quiet and soak up the garden. I am bathed in a gentle morning breeze. Not yet hot, the air is soft and refreshing. Fragrances from flowers and damp earth tell me it is high summer after a rain. My eyes take in the chaotic wonderland of bursting plants presenting a cornucopia of colors and forms. Butterflies and bees animate my view. Cardinals sing, wrens scold, cicadas hum, the leaves in the trees “shhuuush”. Of all the senses that are stimulated, I find that sound is more transportative - either to the original place of the sound or to a heightened sense of the magnificent. If I close my eyes, the symphony of my garden can conjure all the garden has to offer. Likewise, a beautiful song can lift my mood and connect me to something greater. But what exactly is sound? And how can we disentangle the warbles, the scolds, the “zzzz”s, and the swishes, or distinguish Joni Mitchell’s voice from Bob Dylan’s?
Fascinating. Really amazing how our bodies have evolved to work in such complicated ways. It also makes me wonder what breaks down as we age so that some of us become hard of hearing? Is it the fluid dries up, the hairs fall out, or something else?
I get the logic, but it still surprises me that the wiggly wave form sounds like two simultaneous but different notes.
Fascinating. Really amazing how our bodies have evolved to work in such complicated ways. It also makes me wonder what breaks down as we age so that some of us become hard of hearing? Is it the fluid dries up, the hairs fall out, or something else?
thanks Pru I always enjoy your articles.