The Literary Drover No. 3690

As I get older I find I have less interest in Noise and prefer Sound:

Noise: A middle-aged guy in an unfinished detached garage, molesting an electric guitar in a tone-deaf homage to Stevie Ray Vaughn’s “Texas Flood”.

Sound: A light breeze caressing the upper branches of a pine forest before descending into a valley where it repeats its gentle ways with grass dried by summer heat.

Noise: A radio pushed to its limits, distorted as it attempts to be heard over the roar and rumble of a motorcycle engine.

Sound: The sweet song of a male Western Meadowlark.

While doing research for a Jhon Collector Mystery that involved bushwhacking I came to a place where Sound was the norm and I paused to listen to the soundtrack of Nature. When I resumed my journey I did so with a sense of renewal and new focus.

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