I’m more connected with the outside here. That makes little sense since I’ve got a lot less outside to play with.
The four windows in my office are wide open. I’m on the patio daily. There are sounds. In Connecticut we spent 23 years hearing nothing but nature.
I like hearing the kids playing. They ride their bikes and generally have fun below my window.
Sometimes I hear kids crying. I have a child. I have that experience. It still upsets me.
At night I’ve heard loud family fights somewhere in the extended neighborhood. I now know the “F” word works in Mandarin.
Mostly, the night is quiet. This is an early-to-bed area.
When I cut audio tracks in my former closet “studio” the windows go down. Blinds too. I’d wake the neighborhood.
Once or twice a month cars let loose on Irvine Blvd, over a half mile away. The speed limit is conservatively sixty, but it’s an inviting few miles of sparsely traveled open road to test your ride. In some cases they’re also testing their tires.
We are the next to last home before a farm owned by UC Irvine. We are separated by a high berm, fence and lots of flowers and shrubbery.
Pack behavior howling from coyotes happens nightly. There’s a bunny population explosion every spring. Bunnies are scarce in October.
We hear the Disneyland fireworks. Anaheim is 14 miles north. They’re in the background here, noticeable at 9:30 sharp. You can set your watch to Disney.
In the summer they’re nightly. This time of year, just a few times a week. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of the sound.