nd I believe that I am acquainted
with all the fiendish noises which can be made by man or machinery. The
whack of heavy falling bodies, the sudden shivering splinter of chopped
logs, the crystal shatter of pounded ice, the crash of a tree hurled to
the earth by a hurricane, the irrational, persistent chaos of noise made
by switching freight-trains, the explosion of gas, the blasting of
stone, and the terrific grinding of rock upon rock which precedes the
collapse--all these have been in my touch-experience, and contribute to
my idea of Bedlam, of a battle, a waterspout, an earthquake, and other
enormous accumulations of sound.
Touch brings me into contact with the traffic and manifold activity of
the city. Besides the bustle and crowding of people and the nondescript
grating and electric howling of street-cars, I am conscious of
exhalations from many different kinds of shops; from automobiles, drays,
horses, fruit stands, and many varieties of smoke.
Odours strange and musty,
The air sharp and dusty
With lime and with sand,
That no one can stand,
Make the street impassable,
The people irascible,
Until every one cries,
As he trembling goes
With the sight of his eyes
And the scent of his nose
Quite stopped--or at least much diminished--
"Gracious! when will this city be finished?"[B]
[Illustration: Copyright, 1907, by The Whitman Studio
"Listening" to the Trees
To face page 70]
The city is interesting; but the tactual silence of the country is
always most welcome after the din of town and the irritating concussions
of the train. How noiseless and undisturbing are the demolition, the
repairs and the alterations, of nature! With no sound of hammer or saw
or stone severed from stone, but a music of rustles and ripe thumps on
the grass come the fluttering leaves and mellow fruits which the wind
tumbles all day from the branches. Silently all droops, all withers, all
is poured back into the earth that it may recreate; all sleeps while the
busy architects of day and night ply their silent work elsewhere. The
same serenity reigns when all at once the soil yields up a newly wrought
creation. Softly the ocean of grass, moss, and flowers rolls surge upon
surge across the earth. Curtains of foliage drape the bare branches.
Great trees make ready in their sturdy hearts to receive again birds
whi
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