My cranberries in the freezer sound like marbles when I shake the box. I love the percussion of a thunder storm, or the soft sigh as leaves fall to the ground. As I walk by the lake, I hear ripples and splashes, tiny echoes of the intense crashing of the ocean waves that I miss so strongly. I also miss the sharp rattling of palm branches as the wind rustles through the leaves high overhead. I like hearing the opposing timbres and cadences of different languages. Today I heard music so soft and gentle that I could have fallen asleep. Yet I know that I will always prefer and love the deep resonance of guitar chords that pulse straight into my heart and take flight.


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