On one-hundred-eight street in NYC a cacophony of sounds hits one's ear. The constant whirl of traffic on Second and First avenues provides a whoosh undertone to the area provide a consistent background. Birds chirp in the trees to counterpoint while people walk to and from their apartments. Entrances and exits from the corner bodega are constant and contain conversation. The trundle of hand carts filled with earthly goods are pushed down the street by abuelitas, adding a metallic overtone to the traffic.
When a large car or truck passes, with a modified muffler, car alarms are incited drawing signals to their sounding distress. Dogs will bark at squirrels gathering their autumnal acorns and a cat will slink by on silent padded feet. The fauna disturbs the flora in passing, adding a brief and minute punctuation of rustles and brushes to the overwhelming hustle of the area.
On one-hundered-ninth street is a small church and on Sundays can be heard the distinctly sonorous bells calling the faithful to worship. If one listens closely enough, it can be imagined that the upraised voices of the congregation, in psalm, can be heard on the wind winding it's way to God's ear. The neighbors gather to play stick ball across the avenue and the crack of the broom handle against the rubber ball echos off edifices as men run to and fro, encouraging one their team with boisterous and grand statements while mocking their competition. The children in the corner park laugh as they swing higher into the Sunday sky. Crossing wooden bridges and climbing towers they build their castles with shrieks of merriment. These sounds landmark the space, allowing for this area to be individual from other areas in the city.
