some comforting ambiances
you open the window to let in cool night air and shift in your sheets to lie on your side in bed. a train passes in the distance, horn sounding long and low
the sound of a breeze rippling through tall grass after a brief tension when you thought you could hear nothing
escaping to the seaside from a loud house to listen to twilight waves lapping at the damp sand
it’s the morning blue hour. you’re taking a walk. there isn’t much sound besides your feet tapping on the asphalt, but sometimes a bird chirps and you feel like twirling in the middle of the street
there is no one else in the backyard and you have a bird’s eye view of all the other houses on the hillside. the wind chime tinkles endlessly.
the insulated silence of a vast library, sometimes echoing but still contained. it’s the sound of plush cushions depressing, of pages turning noiselessly, of fingers running along softened book spines
