Nocturnal Soundtrack

It was a sound that brought tears to my eyes.

After tossing and turning for most of the night I struck my colors and made a hasty retreat to the studio with the faint hope that my Beautiful Saxon Princess would get some decent rest once I was gone. I curled up on the old loveseat next to my desk and fired up my MP3 player (yes, they still exist) hoping the companionship of my old musical friends would take the edge off the physical and emotional discomforts depriving me of sleep.

That relief came but not through the music but rather through the sound of the room itself. Without the background accompaniment of CD player, computer, room fans and my grandson’s Hot Wheels re-enactments of NASCAR events my studio manifests a very subtle soundtrack of its own: wind rustling through the trees, the low almost inaudible rumble-hum of the clothes dryer and the moan of the wind through power and phone lines. It’s beautiful sound that I very rarely hear now, a sound that would lull to sleep every night I spent in my attic loft back in Sterling…

…and for just a few minutes I was free of the pain and anxiety that I joust with nightly as I near my sixty-seventh birthday…

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