SOUNDS

I had no idea how much the daily sounds of my home town create
for me a stage for my life. I awake at night and hear the low hum of
traffic going by on I-95. Sometimes it’s a train whistle that awakens
me, and I go back to sleep, somehow softened.

Even the sound of the refrigerator has a rythym to it that I hear and
know that all’s well.

The poet , teacher and writer Ralph Waldo Emerson echoed this
awareness in August of 1841 when, as a young man of 38, he
wrote:

“The trumpet-like
lowing of a cow —
what does that speak to in me?
Not to my understanding.
No.

Yet somewhat in me
hears
and loves it well..”

These lines from a man who taught us to listen to our own inner
conscience, not as the selfish desire to ‘do our own thing’, but as
the sober intuition of the heart to rise above circumstances and
find the noble path.

(I found this in the book, EMPHATICALLY EMERSON, by Frank
Crocitto)

The sounds of a lowing cow come back to me from my childhood
summers spent in a mountain valley in the New York State Catskills.
These were sounds that created the landscape of my life.

Mom/Mimi/Antoinette/Toni

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