Voice Box

Summary

The author enjoys the sounds of nature, such as birds and crickets, and wonders about the location of their own voice box.

Abstract

The author describes the various sounds they hear from their window, including human noise and natural sounds like birds and crickets. They enjoy listening to these sounds and prefer them over music when the weather is nice. After a thunderstorm, the author is struck by the beauty of the natural sounds and wonders where their own voice box is located.

Opinions

The author prefers natural sounds to music when the weather is nice.
The author enjoys the sounds of birds and crickets after a thunderstorm.
The author wonders about the location of their own voice box.
The author notes that birds sing from the tops of their lungs, which is not common in humans.
The author notes that crickets create a thundering symphony after a thunderstorm.
The author wonders if their voice box is located in their fingertips, which they find strange.
The author does not claim to be a scientist and acknowledges that they do not know where the voice box of crickets is located.

Where is yours?

There is a window directly opposite of my writing desk from where I sit. In the brutal heat of summer that window is usually closed as the air conditioner cools the apartment. In winter it is often closed to keep the warmth in. In spring and fall the window is always wide open.

Through this delightful window I can hear the community in which I live. I can hear the trains (just three blocks away) either rumbling through town or coming to an ear-shattering screeching halt. I can hear the traffic on the highway (just two blocks away). I can hear the loud motorcycles or the pickup trucks drag-racing through town. I can hear the ambulances or fire trucks or police cars. I can hear an occasional gunshot or fireworks (it’s hard to tell the difference). I hear all the human noise my town has to offer.

But there are other times when all I hear are birds or crickets. These are the times during which I never wear headphones.

When it is a hundred and eight degrees outside (Fahrenheit) or when it is sixteen below zero outside (Fahrenheit) and the window is shut tight I sometimes wear headphones. Listening to music can be a bit more exciting than listening to the droll hum of the air conditioner or the sound of freezing bones rattling.

So this afternoon the temperature got up close to one hundred (Fahrenheit) and I turned on my laptop. I thought about putting on my headphones and escaping into music but I heard distant thunder. I looked out a different window in my office and saw dark clouds headed toward town so I decided against headphones. There’s nothing like the delightful sound of thunder, right?

Before long my town was deluged by a monstrous thunderstorm. Water was falling from the sky like an ocean had been tipped over. Lightning and thunder were non-stop. It was invigorating and refreshing.

So I turned off the air conditioner and opened all the windows. Oh, the smell! The life-inducing smell! The joyous, delicious smell!

The meteorological deluge lasted approximately twenty-seven and a half minutes. (I wasn’t timing it. I’m just guessing.) When it was over and my apartment was filled with the heavenly scent of Gaia I kept the windows open. During those twenty-seven and a half minutes (approximately) the temperature outside went from the upper nineties (Fahrenheit) down to the mid to low seventies (Fahrenheit). I call it God’s air conditioner. It can work rather quickly.

With the windows open and the air conditioner off there was no way in hell that I was going to put on headphones. Are you kidding? It was in that time after the storm that the human noise of my community ceased. All I could hear through my opened widows was a cacophony of cricket music and birdsong.

Believe me, nothing on any of my playlists comes close to the beauty of that!

As though celebrating the storm, the birds were singing at the top of their lungs. When I say that I am speaking strictly scientifically. While human voice boxes are located in our throats, the voice boxes of birds is located at the top of their lungs. Literally. That is why they are always singing at the top of their lungs. While there may be a few very rare humans who sing from the tops of their lungs most humans don’t do that. But all birds do. Is that why birds aren’t allowed to audition for American Idol? Who knows?

Then there are the crickets. My goodness, they were making an incredible joyous racket! Crickets are silent during thunderstorms but afterward they explode with cricket music! So is the voice box of crickets in their legs? Seriously, I don’t know. I’m not a freaking scientist. But man can they ever create a thundering symphony!

So with a blank screen on my laptop I began wondering where my voice box was. It certainly was not at the top of my lungs and it wasn’t in my throat. And it sure as freaking hell was not in my legs! I pulled my hands away from the silent keyboard and looked at them. Was my voice box in my fingertips? How is that even scientifically possible? What the fuck?

Where is your voice box?