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[personal profile] rejectomorph
Some days sounds will carry farther than they do on other days. Today, someone in the neighborhood is using a hammer. I can hear it echoing. Somehow, it makes the day seem larger. Strange, how a sound can open up a space. And, like the echo of the hammer itself, this sound has opened up a second space, in my memory. It has made me recall other days when I heard distant hammering, from houses being built, fences being repaired, construction of all sorts. I wonder now how many of the nails I have heard being driven are still holding things together? Are the houses they helped build in neighborhoods I haven't seen in years still there, or have they been taken down, replaced by newer buildings, or parking lots? What is going on in that vast world where the echo of this hammer dies?

Date: 2001-11-04 04:09 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] pixelshim.livejournal.com
I especially like a damp day and foggy day, where the sounds have a mysterious quality as they echo off of trillions of tiny water droplets, and cannot be assigned a direction.

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