Sirens and seagulls...

On another anxious day, I was sitting in my flat trying to read. I can't remember whether I was attempting my Overcoming Anxiety book, or whether it hadn't yet arrived in the post.

Anyway, each passing minute brought new and different noises. I have noticed recently in Edinburgh that it is rare not to hear a siren going off somewhere in the city. Not necessarily near me, as it is a fairly quiet part of town when it comes to crime *touch wood*, but just somewhere close enough that I can hear it.

Then comes the barking. Someone from a nearby flat appears to be attempting to train a dog in the communal patch of grass outside. Dog objects to being raised in residential Edinburgh...

The seagulls start their merry music. Sqawk....sqawk....SQAWK, as they soar over the rooftops. And when I say soar, I really mean scramble. There is nothing majestic about seagulls. They are loud, and they are annoying.

Through the wall, a cellist plays. Now this is interesting, because they are in the building next to us. So I have no idea what sex this person is or what he or she looks like. They are a faceless neighbour. And they really love their cello. Whether it is 9am on a Saturday morning, or 10.45pm on a Tuesday night, the cello gets action. And whilst you may think this would be enjoyable to hear, it has become extremely tiresome. I can hear it right now.

Above me, the sound of heavy feet clomp over the new oak floors in the flat above. A year of noisy noisy noisy renovation (and our kitchen and bathroom being flooded) and the guy upstairs has chosen to forego the friendly traditional carpet in favour of the new trendy barenaked wooden effect. Stylish, sure. Noisy, yes. I don't particularly need to imagine where and why he paces.

So I thought to myself, when was the last time I heard actual silence? All these noises individually are short-term and not that annoying. Yet all at once, altogether, when you are just trying to read in peace, are incredibly frustrating.

And ok, I'll admit it, they make me anxious.

It was during a talk by photographer Colin Prior in Kinross earlier this year that I first thought about actual silence. He asked the question; when was the last time you had literally no noise in your life? Nothing. No outside noise, not even wind, just pure and unspoiled silence.

I realised how rare that is these days, and how underestimated it is.

I sometimes find it here.