I Can Hear You


You never know who’s listening.

I don’t have any doubt that my neighbors can hear me practicing. The space where I practice faces the backyard of a group home for adults with autism. During the day everyone appears to stay busy indoors and the house is quiet. In the evening, if the weather is nice, one or two residents will sit on the back porch. One gentleman in particular will sing or occasionally shout jubilantly. His songs don’t have any lyrics and he always sings on the syllable “ah.” A short musical phrase will inspire him and he will repeat it several times before moving on to the next musical phrase. He loves trills. Often, I can’t help but think of Tarzan’s call.

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