Sunday evening.

It has stopped raining,all be it for now at least.Those raindrops,those dew balls that dressed the trees and the bushes have retreated into their silence for now.This evening ,quiet,in retreat of commotion at the end of another week is in the pit stop for around ten hours before the Monday morning activity that starts another working week.We savour the silence in many ways,with only a few vehicles to interrupt their sound void.

As darkness falls,I think f the animals whose business in safety it is to inhabit the night,the darkness that they navigate is their friend,their workmate.They exist in this night space,aware of their instinct,their need to survive,the drive to live.If their passage is rough or smooth,they neither let it stop them,or allow it to affect them in their pursuit of survival.It intrigues me that with all the threats to their existence that somehow they survive ,getting through another night,Now,it doesn’t matter to them if I write about them or not,but they grub around for food they are masters of their wn

destiny in so many ways,but they don’t seem to take their existence for existence.

The other night,I heard the scream of a fox ,it must have been around 3 in the morning,I don’t know exactly,but the scream had a rasping nature,almost desperate in its cry.,so much so,that the dogs in the vicinity all barked in unison,either in fear,sympathy of just as a reaction to this scream.Sometimes,sounds come out of no where,from a place that you just can’t put a direction to.To me,sounds are always given attention,shape,coherence and substance.Really,they have a musical dimension to me and the older I get,the more import I give to environmental sounds.Yes,I’m a trained musician,with a bit of talent,but sometimes I just marvel at how sound is all pervasive,how it affects me,drives me in many ways.

Punctuated sounds by their very presence have a rhythm to them that never ceases to amaze me.Like the pulses in our body,they are around us all the time and if I can teach a person anything about music it is the understanding of their own bodily pulses.It is why bodily movement is so important to them ,the rhythm of their lives so to speak.Now,I’m probably evangelical about it in many ways,but for me on this Sunday evening ,I’ve been impelled to write again about environmental sounds:This morning,it was the rain that descended from the skies,but tonight,it is the end of the day that sound is still there,but it is far more nuanced if you like,and you have to listen intently to it to hear it.Although my concentration has never been that good truth be told,my attention to sound is very acute.It is marked to me when the silence appears to be the only release from a busy day,but there is truly no such thing as silence.To elaborate,if your u listen intently enough,you will hear these sounds that I’m talking about .

So,it’s Sunday evening,it’s the end of the day,it’s the end of my day,but I’m glad for the “Music of the night Owls”Please listen ,if you can,for the sounds of the night,they are there always.Sometimes,we might struggle to think that they are musical,and that will be your objective or subjective opinion,but you will hear them and they will be there.

So,on this Sunday evening,I’m adding this muse as a postscript to my morning offering.

Thank you.

Kernowsmith.

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