Myworldhasgottenalotlouderlately. My 2-year-oldson, Ezra, justdiscoverednoise.
“Airplane, airplane, airplane.” HegesturestowardtheskyuntilIrepeat, “Airplane.”
“Car!” HeinterruptsthestoryI’mreadingandspinstowardthewindowasaVolvostationwagonrollsby.[1] “Phone, phone, phone,” hesaysaswewalkthroughthegrocerystoreandhearcellphoneschirping.[2]
UsuallyI’mblockingout[3] thesesounds. Isupposeit’sasurvivalmechanismthathelpsmeliveinaworldfullofobnoxious, cacophonousnoises,[4] becausenowthatEzra’spointingthemouttome, I’mlongingforsilence.
I’mnottheonlyone. GordonHempton, anacousticecologist, travelstheworldrecordingnaturalsoundscapes, andhe’sbeenspreadingsomealarmingnews: Naturalsilenceisgoingextinct.[5]
“Inthelast 30 years, I’vefounditnearlyimpossibleintheUnitedStatestoexperience 15 minutesorlongerwherethere’snotsomekindofnoisedisruptioninthebackground,” Mr. Hemptonexplainedinarecentradiointerview.
AcoupleweeksafterEzrastartsidentifyingsounds, mysisterannouncesshe’scomingforavisitandwantstogoforahike[6]. “Aslongasit’ssomewherequiet,” Ireply.
WechooseMcDowellCreekFalls, whichisanhourfrommyhouseinEugene, Ore. WeturnoffI-5[7] andheaddownacountryroad. Thefarmhousesthin; theroadnarrows; Douglasfirs, Westernhemlocks, andmoss-coveredbigleafmaplescrowdin.[8] Astreambabbles[9] onourright. Icanalmosttastethesilence.
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