Tag: noise

Posted in construction

It’s just a bit early for that, don’t you think?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
It’s 6:15 and they’r at it already

The big dog and I got out just before sunrise for our morning walk. It was worth it being out early, when the early morning clouds are painted just about every shade of pink there could possibly be.

But it was noisy. Typically at that hour the only thing I hear is bird song and a panting dog. A low roar in the distance puzzled me. When we rounded the first bend in the road, I saw what was going on. Masons had fired up a small concrete mixer, preparing mortar to finish brickwork on a house under construction. I glanced at my watch. 6:15 am.

I said out loud, “I’ll bet the neighbors love this!” I don’t know if the workers heard me. Too much noise. I always thought they couldn’t start work till about 8 am. I know it’s a lot cooler in the morning, but that’s early to crank up the power tools.

Towards the end of our walk, another neighbor was loudly trimming his hedges. I glanced at my watch. 6:45 am.

Oh, come on. Really? You don’t think any of your neighbors are still sleeping? Give me a break.

I know these are hot summer days. It’s so much better to get outdoor work done in the cooler, early morning hours. But this is ridiculous.

Posted in Life, sounds

There are some sounds I no longer hear

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Yesterday, I talked about all the sounds I heard in the distance, sounds that immediately brought images to mind. Today, I happened to think, “There are some sounds I don’t hear any more.”

  • Like a phone ringing. By that, I mean, the ringing of a phone hanging on the wall of my home when someone called. Ninety percent of the time, I’ve got the ringer on my phone turned off. It’s in my pocket and I feel a vibration when someone calls. But the phone automatically silences the majority of my calls, since they are from unknown numbers. Once in a great while (usually in church or a movie theater), someone’s ring tone will be that traditional harsh. It’s annoying. I don’t miss it at all.
  • I don’t hear the doorbell. I disconnected it. When we had one, the only time someone pressed the button was when someone was taking a nap. It could be me. It could be a grandchild. The dogs would go nuts, the kid would start crying, so I cut one of the wires inside the wall unit. Problem solved.
  • I don’t hear the sound of nails being hammered. All I hear at new home construction sites are nail guns run by noisy compressors. I suppose the carpenters have a hammer somewhere in the back of their truck, but I don’t hear it hitting a nail very often.
  • I no longer hear coffee percolating. Our coffee maker pushes hot water through a pod with a surprisingly quiet hissing sound. When we travel, it take about ten minutes to burp the water through an old Mr. Coffee. I don’t miss him at all.
  • And speaking of phones, I no longer get a busy signal when someone is on another call. Instead, I am sent immediately to voice mail.

The sounds I don’t hear tell an interesting story about innovation, technology, and our changing world.

Posted in sounds

You can see a lot just by listening

Posted on by William Douthwaite

As I sat outside to read and write early yesterday morning, I heard a woodpecker hammering away at a tree a few blocks away. In my mind’s eye, I could see what that sound meant.

The woodpeckers drill holes in the twenty-foot dead pine trees in search of insects. The trees are easy to spot since they’ve already dropped their needles. The bark is dotted with holes before it falls away. One good storm will bring the tree down. The woodpecker’s rapid rhythm prompts me to glance up and check for any dead trees near my house.

What other sounds in the distance grab my attention?

  • The revving diesel engine, squeaky brakes, and backup beeping of the garbage truck reminds me it’s trash and recycling collection day.
  • A different rhythmic hammering announces that another neighbor is getting a new roof. Each shingle is attached with a rapid pop-pop-pop from the nail gun.
  • The whine of a Japanese-made motorcycle shifting through its gears conjures up the image of a traffic-free stretch of interstate highway.
  • I always glance up when I hear the rotors of a helicopter overhead. Is it the medical transport? I’ll bet that’s why I heard sirens.
  • The squealing of a belt that needs to be replaced in someone’s car engine. How can they stand that sound?
  • The sound of a lawnmower makes me glance at my lawn. It is time to cut it again already?
  • The groans of heavy equipment and cracking tree trunks signals the clear of a wooded lot for new home construction.

I’m amazed how each sound generates a mental image of what is happening. You can see a lot just by listening.

Posted in Life

Do you hear what I hear?

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Photo by Dex Ezekiel on Unsplash

Rob Walker (The Art of Noticing) recently suggested spending time noticing what you hear around you. There are words that describe and classify the sounds I hear.

Biophony refers to the sounds of living organisms. Geophony are non-animal sounds like those made by the wind or ocean waves. Anthrophony is about the sounds that people or their creations make. This would include the sounds made by technology, which I noticed this morning.

It’s dark. The sun has not yet risen. No one has arrived work on the house being built across the street. No cars or trucks are driving through the neighborhood. My wife and dog are still asleep. I am sitting still.

But it’s not quiet.

Freshly frozen ice cubes drop in the freezer. The thermostat gently clicks and I hear cool air blow from a vent. I hear the gentle rush of water heating up in the coffee maker. A ceiling fan creates a gentle audible rhythm. The refrigerator hums. A partially dimmed lightbulb buzzes. The world may not be awake, but my technology is.

Unless I stop and listen, I don’t pay much attention to these sounds. I’m used to them. But when a hurricane blows through and the power is out, I miss them. That’s when the quiet is the loudest. I’m aware of all the sounds I don’t hear. I wonder when the power will come back on. When it does and I hear everything again, I relax and fall back to sleep.

What do I notice more: the sounds I hear or the sounds I don’t hear? I always hear water running or dripping somewhere in the house. (I think that’s a dad thing.) The heating element in the oven has a distinctive sound I notice when we have accidentally left it on. When I hear the garbage truck around the block, I’ll remember to get my trash can out to the street.

But when I wake up feeling too warm, I’ll wake and immediately notice I don’t hear cool air blowing from a vent. I know something’s wrong when my maps app isn’t telling me my exit is coming up soon. Parents notice if the kids are too quiet in another room. It’s not good when someone takes a bite and you ask, “What do you think?” and they say nothing. When laryngitis hits, I’m aware of my absent voice. It’s not unusual for one of us to say, “I didn’t hear you get up this morning.”

Pause for a moment. What do you hear?

Posted in Ministry

Making some noise

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Yesterday in church, during the sermon, I challenged the congregation to make some noise. The lead is was that the praises of Revelation 4 and 5 aren’t polite golf claps, but deafening praise for our Creator and Savior. I had sent out an email on Saturday, telling them to be ready to make some noise and to even bring noise makers with them on Sunday. Since we are usually pretty reserved on Sunday mornings, I didn’t expect much. Boy was I wrong. They were primed and ready and just waiting for the command. They brought whistles, drums, and some healthy lungs with them. And when I called for some noise, they let loose, much more than I had anticipated. Our early service did well. Our second service is a little more traditional, but those folks did even better. You can hear it at at the very end of yesterday’s sermon. I wonder why we sometimes hold back our praise, as well as some of our other emotions. Why pretend we’re not sad, happy, or angry? I’m pretty proud of the way everyone responded yesterday. Nice job, folks!