What I Hear

Early today I took a walk through my neighborhood, Astoria. As I left my apartment and headed towards the big park by the water, I could hear people coming in and out of their houses. Various wind chimes; some wood, some metal, chimed as the doors were opened and closed. Birds chirped and cooed. Crossing the street to the park entrance I heard a low rumble, as a large truck idled along the curbside. The sounds of heavy breathe and rhythmic sneaker claps against the concrete, were heard from a passing jogger. Dogs barked and a few basketballs were bouncing in the nearby court. Noises from the birds became more frequent inside the park grounds. There was a constant lull from traffic speeding over the bridge, hundreds of feet overhead. I passed a man practicing the scales on his saxophone in the shade. Cars passed back and forth as I left the park and headed down an avenue. Bells hanging from little store front doors rang every few minutes. The N train on the tracks overhead drowned all other sounds and noises for a 45 seconds. The vents from the grocery store buzzed. The p.a. system advertised sales for meat and dairy products. Cash register keys clicked loudly and customers talked while they wheeled squeaky carts up and down the aisles. Back on the street, cars and trucks zoomed under the L. Street vendors solicited sales and yelled obscenities. An old blind man sitting on a milk crate listened to a small radio. Ambient noises receded as I get further from the busy roadway and closer to my apartment.