My list of nice sounds:
Wind howling in a big
snow.
A little kid’s laugh.
Thunder rumbling.
Skate blades on cold
winter ice.
Rain as it moves across
a corn field toward the house.
A kitten’s purr.
Slow steady rain.
Old men telling stories.
Sheets snapping in the
breeze.
The furnace coming on as
soon as you shiver.
Train whistles.
Crackling bonfires.
Mack truck.
A song bringing a good
memory.
Buzzing bees.
Turning book pages.
Porch swing creaking.
Screen door slamming.
Carousel music.
The hymn “It is Well With
My Soul.”
Horses talking at night.
When you can hear a
smile in someone’s voice.
Taps.
Harley Hog.
Marching bands.
Big kids telling their
family “I love you.”
Shovel slicing soil.
Bird conversations.
Delta Queen’s paddle
wheel.
Imperfections on a vinyl
record.
House full of family.
Cows calming their
calves.
Indiana accent.
An owl.
A clock ticking.
Fog horns.
Message from a
grandchild just to say “Hi.”
My list of not-so-nice
sounds:
People in the path
should immediately take cover.
Squish of cow pie.
A large limb breaking.
Dogs barking at the
moon.
Hail.
It’s cancer.
Tire blowout.
Police, ambulance and
fire sirens at your house.
Snake rattles.
Screeching breaks from
the car behind you.
Coyotes.
Engine knock.
A lawn mower that won’t
start.
Leaf blowers.
Something exploding in
the microwave.
Mommy/Daddy, my tummy
hurts.
The phone ringing at 3:00
am.
Starlings.
War.
Splattering grease.
Politicians.
Cicadas after the
novilty wears off.
Gossip.
Hospital night sounds.
Rushing flood waters.
Fire and brimstone
(Threw this one in to take it to another level of morose.)
“We
can complain because rose bushes have thorns,
or rejoice because thorn bushes
have roses.”
Abraham Lincoln knew sounds.
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