Symphony of Life

(written: June 4, 2006)

I took time to listen today... and I heard quite a lot.

I heard the light patter of my son running down the hall from his bedroom to the computer room to watch morning TV. (He's done this every weekend morning since he could walk - he's now 11)

I heard the soft snores of my dog as he napped in his crate. He's a black lab/golden retriever mix and a real bundle of energy except when he's sleeping. He snuffled and snored until I threw my blanket back and touched the carpeted floor with my bare feet. In that instant, Marley scrambled to his feet and was ready for me to open the bedroom door so he can bound joyfully down the hall, his nails clicking and scrabbling on the hardwood floor.

I heard the soft fall of rain outside my kitchen window, drops plinking on the cover of my barbeque grill, or slapping on the leaves of all the trees in the backyard.

I heard the whir and whine of the weed-wacker as my husband trimmed the jungle-like grass at the foot of our front yard.

I heard the dulcet tones of Stephen Fry narrating the latest Harry Potter book on my cd player as I layered ingredients for our lasagne dinner.

I heard the running shower, accompanied by my son's wordless humming, sometimes swelling to aria-like proportions as he indulged in his nightly waterfest.

I heard the soft whirr of my computer as I sit in my lamplit office, catching up with emails as the rest of the house grows silent in the night.

Another day has gone-- and with it, the sounds that make up a Symphony of Life.