Hearing things

           It’s cold enough to have prompted the closing of storm windows this evening. From May through September, our windows generally remain open. I miss the sounds of the world when the windows close – chirps and chick-a-dee-dee-dees, caws and coos, spring peepers and fall crickets, a morning bark, quiet human voices in conversation, the crescendo and decrescendo of passing cars, the shriek and hiss of school bus brakes at 7:30am, the crunching roll of car tires on a driveway, the distant electronic belltones of the new Hampden Academy, over a mile away.
               I thought Hampden Academy’s electronic school tones reproduced the classic first four notes of Big Ben, the grandfather clock chimes (G#-E-F#-B). After years of hearing it float my way on the breeze, I finally realized that my brain was filling in a first note that is not there. They only play notes two through four. Sometimes we hear things that aren’t there. I suppose that can be a comfort.
 
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 34: 160 words, TOTAL = 5117; 54,883 remaining