Night Noise

I never realized how much I missed night noises until I came back to the US.

Edinburgh has its own brand of night noises, I suppose. The rush of trains, the slamming of doors, the shuffling of feet and the buzzing of real Scottish Ales being consumed in vast quantities. City noises, voices and cars and dogs and your nextdoor neighbor’s TV set. Noises that I got used to but never really enjoyed. Noises we would complain and laugh about and turn up our music to drown it out.

But REAL night noises, I missed those. We sat up in a bed and breakfast in Harpers Ferry, WV listening to noises. Crickets and bats and an odd bird or cicada. Water and light laughter from an evening BBQ. Later summer breeze through late summer trees, and the night silence that only comes when you get out the city. The sound of hot sticky days and humidity mixing with cool night, the sigh and whisper of summer on the east coast. I missed these noises, and I had forgotten what they sounded like in Scotland.

By now, you may have guessed that my time in Soctland has come to a close. We swept and scrubbed and put everything back the way it goes, and packed up and moved out. Got the Hell out of Dodge, as it were. It feels strange, because now we’re officially homeless, living on the kind gestures of friends and family. We’ve exchanged our 300 sq. ft. flat for a 30 sq. ft. Pontiac Vibe, and we’ve seemed to downsize OK. Granted, I have no idea where my facewash is, or my vitamins or clean underwear, but the car’s only so big, they have to be around here somewhere, right?