An unreal and bruising amount of noise in the final weeks of August put me on edge. It’s been hideous on account of construction going all summer long in every (near) direction of my house (literally), and even though I’m tired of listening to myself complain about it, I mention it because it IS part of why my rhythm here has been disrupted (yet again).
One of the happier side effects of seeking shelter from the grinding, whirring, whining, beeping, scraping, thumping, clunking, gunning, tapping, roaring (from 7 a.m. until after 6:00 p.m.) is that I rediscovered my basement-studio. It may not be warm in winter, but boy is it quiet in summer!
School’s started. It’s back to unbelievable traffic and the constant hiding (somewhere! anywhere!) from the invasive sounds of the yard crews, but at least the intense construction of the summer is over.