Just two weeks ago, the fields still resounded with song. The fall field crickets still chirped, the Allard’s ground crickets still trilled, the clouded grasshoppers still crackled and buzzed, the marsh meadow locusts still scratched out their raspy notes, and even an occasional fork-tailed bush katydid emitted its quiet tsip from the tall weeds. But now, the fields are silent. I went out on Saturday to convince myself of the fact that the summer of singing is truly over. The grass was brown and dead, and barely any insects of any kind stirred. I was just about to give up and go home when I heard a soft rattle, far out across the plains. It took me almost 45 minutes to locate the singer, a male marsh meadow locust. His wings were tattered, a leg was missing, and one of his antennae was broken off. Yet he, the last of his kind, continued to sing into the void of imminent winter, screaming defiance at the cold that would have soon killed him. I salute you, Chorthippus curtipennis; the bravest orthopteran I’ve ever known.
I was almost in tears, sitting in the big reclining chair in the sterile little room, waiting for the doctor to show up. My mom, sitting in a chair in the corner, reminded me that nothing was going to happen to me today; it was just a consultation. "But there's a--needle, and anes--anesthesia!" I choked out, my voice jumping an octave. When the doctor arrived, he reassured me that everything was going to be fine, I'd be on painkillers afterwards, that it's a very common operation. He showed me the x-ray taken the last time I was at the orthodontist, clearly showing four impacted third molars and a second molar that should have come in four years ago but didn't because it's jammed. Desperately as I wanted to believe otherwise, I could see this was necessary. Of course I'm lucky, not having ever had surgery before now. Of course I'm lucky, that this isn't a big deal and many people have to endure far more horrific medical procedures. But perspective doesn't make the impending forced removal of all my wisdom teeth any easier to contemplate.
Music is the most basic part of human enjoyment. It is all around us at every moment, whether we hear the words in our heads or listen to the piece swell in the air. Music encompasses everything from bliss to pain to giddiness to sadness. No matter how you feel, there's a song for it. And the best part, I think, is that everyone has a different preference. Music truly becomes an expression and extension of ourselves through the words of others. What I like is probably vastly different than what Anna likes, and what Anna likes is just as different from what Julianna likes. Each song, each word, each melody, is imbued by every one of us with a different meaning, a different experience, a different desire. From all of us, music receives the gift of eternal life. Like the phoenix, it is reborn each time we listen to it. It lasts us our whole lifetimes, and then it lasts through the next lifetime, and the next, evolving and devolving with the times. Our best lasting legacy.
It is amazing how a song can transport you back in time. Whether it was a moment that otherwise would have been forgotten or a time that could never be forgotten, there is an instantaneous and unpreventable flashback. In second grade, my best friend and I always spent our recesses on the swings. We would play games and see who could swing the highest, but I remember singing Breakaway by Kelly Clarkson most vividly. We sang many songs over the course of 2 or 3 years, but whenever I hear that song I remember singing at the top of our lungs as we lay back on the swing until our hair brushed the ground.
I close the shutters, I keep the doors locked and I listen to the same old songs. I tap out the beat once more, twice, three times again. "How do you not get sick of it people ask?" and I tell them, It’s easy when it’s the only thing I listen too. They stare, confused, and then they begin to mock because what else is there to do when you don’t understand? I turn away from them too and I go back to my songs. I know the beats like the back of my eyelids. I know when the chorus begins and when the voices all fade away. It hurts for a little bit, like a faint twinge deep in my chest. But I can press replay.
I think music is one of the most versatile things I have ever experienced. It can be something that brings two people, or two thousand people, together, in one common experience. At the same time, each individual is having their own experience. Music can be personal or communal, and it is no less meaningful in either setting. I listen to music constantly. It makes my commute more enjoyable when I turn it up and my loud singing battles with the singing coming out of the car. In this way, it is an external experience which I feel pulling energy out of me. Other times, I put headphones in and draw. This is a more internal experience where I am the only one hearing the music and it acts as a barrier between myself and the world around me. I thoroughly enjoy putting headphones in as if I am leaving for a little while, only to pop them out and rush back into the real world as quickly as I left. There are so many aspects of music, it is almost as if music is a fictional being, growing and evolving in tandem with the growth and evolution of human kind.
I love this, Meredith! I really like how you focus on one aspect of music, it's versatility. You do a really good job explaining how exactly it is versatile and giving real life examples. And then at the end I like how you bring music into a broader sense and talk really briefly about the other things it can be. Really nice job
When a song brings you back to a time or place, the feeling is unparalleled. I don't think anything else can bring about such a strong feeling of nostalgia, and make you feel like you are truly back in a time you thought was lost. It is almost like time traveling to be honest, the feeling that swells inside you as you listen to the words and notes and can recall so vividly a memory. Where you were, how you felt, who was there, it all feels real and present as you listen to the song. And once the song ends, and you snap back to reality and out of the past, it feels again like you have lost a little part of your life, and it will not come back until the song is played again.
I really like this, Julianna! Other people also wrote about listening to music and reliving memories, but your talking about time travel really resonated with me. Your tone is a bit sad, but I like that, because in the end, a part of nostalgia is feeling sad. I also love how you talk about thinking a time is lost, but after reliving it, you feel like you have lost something. I think this is a relatable feeling. Great job!
Nothing in this world can make me feel the same way music can. When I listen to different songs, each one brings me back to a certain, maybe small, part of my past life. The song Daysleeper by R.E.M., brings me back to a time when I was young, and my parents were leaving to go on a trip. My siblings and I were left with our crazy german au pair, and that song was playing as they walked out of the door. I was crying, and holding tightly onto my mothers leg. Now when I hear that song, I think of the day my parents left for what seemed like years, but in reality was only 4 days. The song Last Kiss by Pearl Jam, reminds me of when I was in 4th and 5th grade, and my dad absolutely loved the album this song was on. He used to play it all the time at night, either when he was making dinner, or just hanging around. Whenever this song would come on, my sister and I would plug our ears and run out of the room. I have actually grown to love this song, now more than ever. Pearl Jam is essentially the only band my dad will listen to nowadays, so when I hear that song, I feel connected with my father. There are so many songs that I could describe that I associate a certain time or memory with. Music has always been such a huge part of my life.
Lauren, I like how you describe the songs with a certain event while also connecting an emotion. Your sadness and annoyance towards your parents shows two feelings that are very different but are still connected by the song in the background. I also like how you show the change in emotion from a song that made you plug your ears and run away to a now positive memory. I liked this piece a lot because I used to do the same thing when my dad played the same U2 album over and over again, but now it just seems like a positive, faded memory. Great job!
Just two weeks ago, the fields still resounded with song. The fall field crickets still chirped, the Allard’s ground crickets still trilled, the clouded grasshoppers still crackled and buzzed, the marsh meadow locusts still scratched out their raspy notes, and even an occasional fork-tailed bush katydid emitted its quiet tsip from the tall weeds. But now, the fields are silent. I went out on Saturday to convince myself of the fact that the summer of singing is truly over. The grass was brown and dead, and barely any insects of any kind stirred. I was just about to give up and go home when I heard a soft rattle, far out across the plains. It took me almost 45 minutes to locate the singer, a male marsh meadow locust. His wings were tattered, a leg was missing, and one of his antennae was broken off. Yet he, the last of his kind, continued to sing into the void of imminent winter, screaming defiance at the cold that would have soon killed him. I salute you, Chorthippus curtipennis; the bravest orthopteran I’ve ever known.
ReplyDeleteI was almost in tears, sitting in the big reclining chair in the sterile little room, waiting for the doctor to show up. My mom, sitting in a chair in the corner, reminded me that nothing was going to happen to me today; it was just a consultation.
ReplyDelete"But there's a--needle, and anes--anesthesia!" I choked out, my voice jumping an octave.
When the doctor arrived, he reassured me that everything was going to be fine, I'd be on painkillers afterwards, that it's a very common operation. He showed me the x-ray taken the last time I was at the orthodontist, clearly showing four impacted third molars and a second molar that should have come in four years ago but didn't because it's jammed. Desperately as I wanted to believe otherwise, I could see this was necessary.
Of course I'm lucky, not having ever had surgery before now. Of course I'm lucky, that this isn't a big deal and many people have to endure far more horrific medical procedures. But perspective doesn't make the impending forced removal of all my wisdom teeth any easier to contemplate.
Music is the most basic part of human enjoyment. It is all around us at every moment, whether we hear the words in our heads or listen to the piece swell in the air. Music encompasses everything from bliss to pain to giddiness to sadness. No matter how you feel, there's a song for it. And the best part, I think, is that everyone has a different preference. Music truly becomes an expression and extension of ourselves through the words of others. What I like is probably vastly different than what Anna likes, and what Anna likes is just as different from what Julianna likes. Each song, each word, each melody, is imbued by every one of us with a different meaning, a different experience, a different desire. From all of us, music receives the gift of eternal life. Like the phoenix, it is reborn each time we listen to it. It lasts us our whole lifetimes, and then it lasts through the next lifetime, and the next, evolving and devolving with the times. Our best lasting legacy.
ReplyDeleteIt is amazing how a song can transport you back in time. Whether it was a moment that otherwise would have been forgotten or a time that could never be forgotten, there is an instantaneous and unpreventable flashback. In second grade, my best friend and I always spent our recesses on the swings. We would play games and see who could swing the highest, but I remember singing Breakaway by Kelly Clarkson most vividly. We sang many songs over the course of 2 or 3 years, but whenever I hear that song I remember singing at the top of our lungs as we lay back on the swing until our hair brushed the ground.
ReplyDeleteI close the shutters, I keep the doors locked and I listen to the same old songs. I tap out the beat once more, twice, three times again. "How do you not get sick of it people ask?" and I tell them, It’s easy when it’s the only thing I listen too. They stare, confused, and then they begin to mock because what else is there to do when you don’t understand? I turn away from them too and I go back to my songs. I know the beats like the back of my eyelids. I know when the chorus begins and when the voices all fade away. It hurts for a little bit, like a faint twinge deep in my chest. But I can press replay.
ReplyDeleteI think music is one of the most versatile things I have ever experienced. It can be something that brings two people, or two thousand people, together, in one common experience. At the same time, each individual is having their own experience. Music can be personal or communal, and it is no less meaningful in either setting. I listen to music constantly. It makes my commute more enjoyable when I turn it up and my loud singing battles with the singing coming out of the car. In this way, it is an external experience which I feel pulling energy out of me. Other times, I put headphones in and draw. This is a more internal experience where I am the only one hearing the music and it acts as a barrier between myself and the world around me. I thoroughly enjoy putting headphones in as if I am leaving for a little while, only to pop them out and rush back into the real world as quickly as I left. There are so many aspects of music, it is almost as if music is a fictional being, growing and evolving in tandem with the growth and evolution of human kind.
ReplyDeleteI love this, Meredith! I really like how you focus on one aspect of music, it's versatility. You do a really good job explaining how exactly it is versatile and giving real life examples. And then at the end I like how you bring music into a broader sense and talk really briefly about the other things it can be. Really nice job
DeleteWhen a song brings you back to a time or place, the feeling is unparalleled. I don't think anything else can bring about such a strong feeling of nostalgia, and make you feel like you are truly back in a time you thought was lost. It is almost like time traveling to be honest, the feeling that swells inside you as you listen to the words and notes and can recall so vividly a memory. Where you were, how you felt, who was there, it all feels real and present as you listen to the song. And once the song ends, and you snap back to reality and out of the past, it feels again like you have lost a little part of your life, and it will not come back until the song is played again.
ReplyDeleteI really like this, Julianna! Other people also wrote about listening to music and reliving memories, but your talking about time travel really resonated with me. Your tone is a bit sad, but I like that, because in the end, a part of nostalgia is feeling sad. I also love how you talk about thinking a time is lost, but after reliving it, you feel like you have lost something. I think this is a relatable feeling. Great job!
DeleteNothing in this world can make me feel the same way music can. When I listen to different songs, each one brings me back to a certain, maybe small, part of my past life. The song Daysleeper by R.E.M., brings me back to a time when I was young, and my parents were leaving to go on a trip. My siblings and I were left with our crazy german au pair, and that song was playing as they walked out of the door. I was crying, and holding tightly onto my mothers leg. Now when I hear that song, I think of the day my parents left for what seemed like years, but in reality was only 4 days. The song Last Kiss by Pearl Jam, reminds me of when I was in 4th and 5th grade, and my dad absolutely loved the album this song was on. He used to play it all the time at night, either when he was making dinner, or just hanging around. Whenever this song would come on, my sister and I would plug our ears and run out of the room. I have actually grown to love this song, now more than ever. Pearl Jam is essentially the only band my dad will listen to nowadays, so when I hear that song, I feel connected with my father. There are so many songs that I could describe that I associate a certain time or memory with. Music has always been such a huge part of my life.
ReplyDeleteLauren, I like how you describe the songs with a certain event while also connecting an emotion. Your sadness and annoyance towards your parents shows two feelings that are very different but are still connected by the song in the background. I also like how you show the change in emotion from a song that made you plug your ears and run away to a now positive memory. I liked this piece a lot because I used to do the same thing when my dad played the same U2 album over and over again, but now it just seems like a positive, faded memory. Great job!
Delete