On my first day back in Colorado, I woke up early expecting to have some quality time with my dad on father’s day over a routine cup of coffee. While he was finishing the worship set for that morning, I read an article in Nat Geo Travel issue about sounds of different locations and the experiences they signify. Inspired, I decided to write about the different morning sounds in my multiple worlds.
Philippines: Wake up (too early) to the rush of cars and honking outside my condo with the occasional rooster crow to greet me. I silence the steady whrrrr of the air conditioning. My upstairs neighbors have yet to do so since I hear the metallic ping of its condensation. Muffled voices and footsteps of maintenance workers starts outside my front door. After the regular morning routine, there is the comforting click of the lock to my front door. The morning ride consists of water noise and tire beating come from my car, with the Hilary and Scottie Show to drown it out – a Filipino morning talk show with one host from Scotland, strange but entertaining. A brief and sleepy good morning to everyone I pass on the way to my classroom. The not so silent start up of my classroom air conditioning and the windows log on greeting of my computer welcomes me to the day at school. After quiet, with the consistent tap of the computer keys, I hear the much too loud for 7 a.m. chatter of my eighth graders as they greet each other outside the door. The first full sentence spoken to me signifies the real beginning of my day, “Good morning Miss Boesel; will we get our papers back today?”
California (my sister’s house): Wake up (late) to the sound of whispering outside my door. “Let auntie Kelli sleep,” my sister says to my nephew or niece, which ever one really wants to get me up. Wait in silence until one of them slips away from her watchful eye, I hear the creak of the door and the soft, half-whispered wake-up call. The cool, soft creak of the wooden floor beneath my feet as I walk to the kitchen. Then there is the gentle splash of the creamer in coffee and the silent walk to the couch for the morning cuddle with my niece and the theme song to “The Backyardigans.” My day officially begins with my nephew: “Auntie Kelli, you remember yesterday, that game with the paper airplanes? Lets do it again!”
Colorado: Wake up (early) to the sound of the car starting or the rush of the outside street traffic. As I walk out of my room there is the clinking of my dog’s tags rushing to greet me. Stifled sounds of my dad’s guitar and voice leak through the air cracks from the basement. Patterned drips from the coffee maker seep from the kitchen as a settle into a chair with my dog’s head resting on my lap. Soft rustle of the magazine I’m reading. My dad walks up the stairs, not many words just a “Good Morning” or “You want so coffee?” because he understands the beautiful silence of the morning hours. After an hour or so, hear the start of the shower, soon my mom will be down more awake than I am and ready to talk. Next is the spurt of the yogurt container lid peeling from its body. My day officially begins with either my mom or my dad saying, “What are you going to do today? Blog, write a letter, send thank-you notes, workout to the Jillian Michael's video?”
*Disclaimer: Accounts of morning are screwed to my perspective and may have been embellished for effect.
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