Summertime creates an outdoor atmosphere where all manner of sounds are generated during each twenty-four hour period. I have been reminded frequently, and lately, of the myriad natural sounds which enter through my ears and resonate inside my being.

Sitting on our deck, we hear the drone-like humming of hummingbird wings as they arrive at our feeder to drink their liquid energy. Cicadas chant their daily mantra like a wind-up music box…sometimes so loudly that we have to vacate the deck chairs for the couch. Crows squawk irregularly, but when they do it’s like listening to neighbors having an outdoor party-complete with arguments!

Birds chirp and sing. Hawks screech as they glide across the sky. Squirrels make unusual noises among their specific communities. Coyotes and bobcats make their presence known nocturnally via howls and hoots. Leaves rustle in unison like magic flutes as the invisible wind whips past them.

These daily and nightly noises are like an orchestra’s cacophony of sounds as the musicians tune their instruments immediately prior to the performance. Audible chaos turns into a symbiotic union of beauty. How Beethoven continued to create musical masterpieces as his deafness increased daily is beyond my comprehension.

I submit that nature’s sounds may seem like that of a human orchestra tuning their instruments, but with one exception. Nature’s instruments are pre-tuned. They’re also pre-programmed. Together, nature creates the perfect cadence of sounds. This auditory resonance can be tuned-in or tuned-out depending on whatever is grabbing our attention at a specific time and place. Similar to a practicing pianist whose instructor uses a metronome for tempo adherence, so, too, the natural sounds we hear have their own steadying affect.

Obviously, this post isn’t about high-quality photographic images, but leans more towards introspection, of sounds, of life’s drumbeats, and of their place in our well-being. I submit that what we listen to (hear) is just as important as what we see, smell or taste. Anyone who has spent time at an oceanside beach and listened to the waves reach and retreat from the shore must admit there is a calming effect to this rhythmic dynamic. The same is true for listening to water flowing down a mountain brook or bubbling in a fountain.

Would it be presumptuous of me to suggest that each of us could benefit from receiving some type of calming cadence in our daily life? Even if it’s only for a few minutes? With so many distractions and noises bombarding us constantly, I know I need this momentary peace to reset my inner metronome. Can you sense that I’m aging? Rhetorical question for sure!