Like most people probably did, I took the time going to school last week to open my ears to the sounds of New York. There were a couple of things I noticed about walking without my music on. In my neighborhood, there was construction going on, I'm guessing for these purposes it would be thought of as a foreground sound. Because that was the loudest, I would focus on that until I passed it. As I was distanced from the construction site, the noise slowly dwindled and I could hear the scuffling of my feet. The way my leather jacket would make a slight squeaking noise as I moved my arms from side to side. As I would wait on the corner, this silver pole would make a sound to signify the lights changing, it was some sort of sound that was reminiscent of a lock opening. I could hear the shortness of my breath and the sound of the air if that makes sense. I don't know what it is but my neighborhood seems to just have a sound to it. People talking, leaves falling, birds chirping, it's this sound that is a combination of individual things. While it is not an intense sound, it's enough to hear in the background.
I took notice to the sound of opening doors as I walked by apartments, cars screeching, stopping, honking, passing by from quick movements. Without my headphones on, I could hear background noise of other people's headphones as I waited for the light to change. It was all sort of a catastrophic melody. It's things I never actually pay attention to. The garbage men throwing bags of garbage into a truck, the sound of stock men moving merchandise onto a conveyor outside of the supermarket and even the dying sound of a rag over glass as the waiter cleaned the window. It was the sound of workers. It was the sounds that I intentionally avoid as I block it out with some my own work or distractions.
As I moved onto the train the noise i could usually hear on my headphones was even more dominant. The train itself seemed to increase twofold. I could again hear the conversation of surrounding people, the sound of muffled music coming from the girl next to me. The swift movement of a person turning to page to read a book. Although, as soon as I heard the ding at Lexington avenue 63rd street I immediately put on my headphones because I consolidated enough information to write this. It's amazing to think how we like the sound of something familiar. The way I could barely get through a train ride without my music. I'm used to it. I'm used to hearing the click my ipod makes if I press next. Because without the sound I'm used to I just don't feel the same in the mornings.
