Modern Sounds

It's 6 in the morning, and pouring rain, but the sky is light. Its soft white-gray hue lights up my curtains. The sound of the rain beating like pebbles against the balcony floor makes me think I might be in a tent in the middle of Jersey, or back home in the Pacific Northwest- or in the middle of a rainforest that Philly once must have been eons ago, like when brontosauri were still roaming the Earth munching on trees. As the day breaks and the minutes move forward, the rain slows to a silence and is surpassed by the sound of cars speeding by below over the wet roads, of car doors slamming shut, and of birds chirping and human voices calling. The roar of the brontosaurus becomes the groaning and heaving of the Septa bus and garbage trucks. Modern Sounds.