What I Hear

The sound of traffic is the soundmark of the city. The swelling sound of tires on the road coming closer and speeding away, the beeping of trucks as they back out of a parking spot, and the honking of cars are a few of the sounds that make up the city’s noise. I walked through lower Manhattan, in a neighborhood with a mix of shops and residential areas. The sound of traffic was always present, but sound signals cut through the noise. The chatter between children and adults was fitting with the time of day, since students were being dismissed from school. Some children were already at the park, where the sound of basketballs hitting the floor and swings creaking were keynotes that blended together. These sounds were unique to the neighborhood as they reflect the gathering of the community, since there were many local parks in the area and outdoor spaces where people could get together. 

The dynamic range of sounds caught my attention. At times the sound of traffic was distant, and other times it became loud as I reached the crosswalks. When I was in between streets, I could hear the neighborhood’s softer sounds, like the birds chirping in the trees overhead, and the rustling of a woman’s plastic grocery bags. I passed a restaurant with outdoor seating at the intersection of two quiet streets. I could hear the clanking of glass cups and utensils, and the soft music coming from inside. These softer sounds were meaningful for me since they often get lost in the loud sound of traffic.