Sound Walk
It’s windy. Four flights up, my fire escape sits between a tunnel of two buildings, a glorified back alley with trees, concrete and garbage. The whirl of the wind sounds like someone whistling through a straw as my hair blows back in my face. I put down my iced coffee to tie my hair up and the ice clinks the side of the mason jar. The tree adjacent to me towers over the top of my building, and the leaves rustle, swaying from side to side. The sun is hot but welcome and I realize that there isn’t a sound to describe the heat, except for maybe the hum of my air conditioner. I press my cup up to my neck and the condensation makes a weird slick sound.
At the far end of the alleyway, there is a playground where children are screaming so loud it bounces back to me. I imagine the squeaking of swings although it’s too far to hear. I’m surprised at the lack of noise, even though it’s the middle of the day. I don’t hear any honking or cars passing by, but I do hear someone singing opera and playing scales for what seems like forever. The sound is tinny and reflective of the bars it passes through to make its way to me. Two alleycats (I think it’s two- two different yelps) start meowing and I look below but can’t find them. I start thinking of Disney’s Aristocats (how is that movie from 1970?) and hum “Everybody Wants to be a Cat” in my head, tapping the window sill.