The whisper of late spring wind through my hair. Doves cooing down the sun. The thrum of wheels purring over asphalt. A big dog’s deep woooof, a little one’s yap. The clang of the railroad crossing, flashing red, lowing its arm. James Taylor on the radio. The distant call of the train horn. One long whistle, two shorts blasts, then one last long lonely cry. The neon sign buzzing “closed” in the barber shop window. Water hissing on a lifted truck in the pay-with-quarters carwash. Crickets. Hundreds of crickets joined in song. His hands keeping time on my steering wheel. My contented sigh.
These are the sounds of small town. These are the sounds of my life.