The sound of silence

 

There are but rare fleeting moments of silence in my world. By silence, I am only referring to the voices that fill my life with much of its chaos; the screams, laughing, crying, and bantering of children; teenagers protesting anything that is asked of them with gasps of disbelief and endless debates of which they have no chance of winning; Melanie's voice calling the teenagers names over and over again (because they act like they cant hear her) which begins to resonate like nails on a blackboard; and the very loud muffled screams of parrots that have claimed the entire garage as their sanctuary. Someone or something is always making noise around me. When the silence comes it is typically 3:00 am, or possibly all the planets have aligned. Either way, it does not last long. When it does, I savor its very essence, and listen to every sound that I can hear that is normally masked in a sonic white wash of the Miles home, only to hear familiar sounds return for a visit like an old friend.

  The wind dances rhythmically through the trees in waves of intensity and frequency. Silent in its own right, she makes her presence known by rustling the thousands of leaves on each individual tree. Joined by all the other trees that surround my house, a symphony is formed; a soft whistling from the fir tree to the west, the chattering elms on the north, fluttering fig leaves, and not to be left out, the clattering palm fronds from the neighbors house across the street. Amongst this gentle background ensemble, high in the trees above comes the melodic twirling of a song bird, interwoven with the calls of humming birds squabbling over the best flowers, their wings beating with ferocity as they zip in and out of the trees, complimented by the warning sounds of the orioles that have staked their claim to the nectar feeder. I close my eyes and breath it all in knowing that at any moment the silence can be broken with the shrill scream of a 2-year-old. Years of construction have taken their toll on my hearing, so I am amazed by what I can still hear and curious about the things that I can not. Ignorance is bliss I suppose.

  Orion has the lungs of a howler monkey it would seem. His voice is loud and powerful. He can hit notes with his 2-year-old voice that can cause china stemware to shatter. It is a game in my house to see who can scream louder and longer between Apollo and Orion. In the end it is Melanie that wins the prize, even though she was not competing. Fortunately for Orion, he has a very sweet talking voice to make up for the shrill screams. He speaks with feeling and expression and always says please and thank you. But my favorite sounds are that of his new found singing voice. His favorite song to sing is the chorus of Real in Rio from the Disney/Pixar movie Rio. His version is "Rio, Rio," he belts out, "All by itself itself." he fades off into a mumble and then repeats. Of course Apollo sings right along with him.
 

Apollo can scream like a school girl when he likes, much to Orion's delight. This always gets him in trouble unless we are at the beach running from waves. Apollo enjoys screaming just to get Orion started. The two of them scream back and forth until someone stops them. We try to encourage other forms of vocal interaction and our favorite game is, 'Orion say;'. Orion will say anything that Apollo asks him to. This game goes for 5 to 10 minutes at a time offering entertainment for all within earshot.
  Orion absolutely adores Apollo and mimics everything he does and says. Its very endearing watching Orion going through the same attitude mannerisms as Apollo; instead of one kid throwing a fit, we now have two. The problem is that Apollo likes to cover his ears when he doesn't like what he is being told. Often he will even announce with a scowl on his face that he is putting his earplugs in. Orion will scowl too and then cover his ears while mumbling under his breath. I have to blame my genetics for this one. I know I sure don't want to listen to someone when I don't agree with them.

  On our most recent motorhome outing, we stayed at Sugarloaf mountain. The campground has very nice showers, so, Melanie left me in charge of Apollo and Orion and went to enjoy 20 minutes alone and a hot shower. I constantly keep my ears and eyes open for these two. I was out side the RV packing things up, while Apollo and Orion were inside playing. I could here them and see them through the doors and windows. Soon, I only heard Orion's voice. I climbed inside the RV, looked around and could only see Orion. I called out to Apollo several times, and there was no answer. I began to think that Apollo slipped outside without me noticing. My heart began to race. "Orion, where did Apollo go?" I asked. "Apollo go door," Orion replied pointing to the bathroom door in the RV.
"Apollo?" I began, "Are you in there?" I did not see any shadows moving under the door nor did I hear anything. I did not want to barge in because I know how much Apollo likes his privacy in the bathroom, and I assumed that if he was in there, he wasn't answering for this reason. "Apollo! If you are in there and don't answer me, I am coming in." I pause to listen..."Apollo?" Still he did not answer so, I opened the door, and there was Apollo seated on the thrown, pants around his ankles and hands over his ears. We looked surprisingly at one another. Without saying a word, I closed the door and backed away, then went about my business. A few minutes later, Apollo emerged from the bathroom and began to play with Orion again.
  When I heard his voice, I returned to the RV and inquired, "Apollo, why did you have your ears covered in the bathroom? Were you trying not to listen to me?"
  "Nope," he replied, "I just didn't want to hear myself poop."

    He is so my child.