This morning when I woke up I thought of the sounds from my childhood.
The rooster crowing, telling everyone to begin their day.
The sound of dogs barking.
Birds chirping their different songs.
The sound of a heavy skillet being laid down on a burner. Then the sizzling of bacon or sausage.
The heavy sound of biscuit dough being plopped over on the flour covered counter. Then flattened with a rolling pin.
The sound of the oven door opening and closing checking on the biscuits.
Gravy being stirred in the skillet that cooked the meat.
The screen door opening and closing as the dogs went in or out.
The sound of juice being poured into glasses. I don’t think they ever drank coffee.
If it was springtime, the man who plowed up garden spaces going past the house. His horses clip-clopping down the road.
Food being scooped onto plates. Silverware being laid down.
Insects buzzing against window screens.
The sound of chores beginning.
Garden hoes hitting the earth to loosen weeds from hard red dirt.
The scratching sound of cicadas as the day heated up. Did you know that you can hear groups of cicadas from more than a mile away?
At lunch, more sounds in the kitchen. Tomatoes and cucumbers being sliced. Leftovers being heated up or sandwiches being made. I loved meatloaf sandwiches.
Glasses of iced tea finding their place on the table.
The sound of dishes being washed before my grannies went back outdoors to continue garden chores.
When the hoes and bonnets were put away for the day, they went back inside to prepare supper.
Reaching for well worn aprons.
The sound of grease heating up in the skillet. Okra frying. Potatoes being turned.
As the day waned I recall the sound of trains in the distance. Clickety-clack, clickety-clack was the sound they made hurtling over the train tracks. Rushing somewhere into the evening.
The many sounds of everyday lives being lived.
Close your eyes and see if you can recall the warm weather sounds you heard years ago.
“In every sound, the hidden silence sleeps.”
― Dejan Stojanovic