As I walked through the woods around my brother, John’s, house on Cape Cod, I listened to the sounds of home.  I heard Blue Jays, Robins, Cardinals, and Mourning Doves.  His woods are populated by many more birds, but those stuck out.

Whenever I stepped outside the house where I grew up in northern Ohio, I heard those songs and calls.  They formed the sound track for home.

My sound track for home now is quite different.  Love of place will always have a sound track.  When I was growing up, I didn’t know I had a sound track, but it subliminally affected me profoundly and still affects me.  Just hearing the sound track at John’s took me back.

One of the places at Mt. Rainier that I love has a deep stillness.  What is that sound?  The sound of the Wind across my ears?  The sound of vast spaces?

My home in Seattle has train horns, eagle chirps, osprey calls, sea lions barking, gulls screeches, robins songs, crows, the rumble of container vessels, tugs, and ferries passing, traffic, and the ubiquitous song of the White Crowned Sparrow.

What sounds make of the texture of the places you love.  Go there physically or in your imagination and Listen.  It’s part of how you connect to what feels holy for you.  Listen 360 degrees.  Especially, pay attention to the sounds behind you.  Do not rule any sound out.  It’s all part of the fabric of your love.

May you walk in beauty,

William

P.S. This is part of my upcoming book – Finding Home.