Sounds of comfort

The following A Texas Voice column was originally released for publication Aug. 5, 2009.
(c) 2009 by Steve Martaindale
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With hearing that’s not as sharp as it once was, it is surprising at times what sounds I do pick up.

A couple of weeks ago, Leah said she would like fish for dinner if I could catch a mess. It looked promising as a couple of small bass found my hook.



Leah had been down by the pond with me but ran back to the house for something. My thoughts wandered and then I heard the screen door slam.

What’s odd about that is it was about 100 yards away and on the other side of the house on the back porch. Usually, there is competing traffic noise from the nearby highway and ... well, there is my iffy hearing.

The slamming of a screen door, though, is a distinctive sound. I’m talking about a wooden screen door, mind you, not a glass and aluminum storm door. The spring snaps the wood of the screen door against the wood of the house’s door frame and you get that distinctive, resonating slap.

For perhaps the first time in my life, I labeled it a comforting sound.

What an odd sound to consider a comfort. It’s sharp and jarring. How often have we heard parents command children to stop slamming the screen door?

Ah, that’s it. We never had a screen door as I was growing up. My experiences with them were at my grandmother’s house.

Mama’s little house had two bedrooms, a bath, a living room and a kitchen. At least, that’s all I remember, but it also had a front porch that ran the width of the house and a porch swing. Separating the swing from the inside was a well-used screen door, important because it allowed a cooling breeze in the summer.

We had good times at Mama’s. In fact, I cannot dredge up a single bad memory. Maybe that is why the sound of a distant slamming screen door is comforting.

Many sounds create a comforting feeling.

The most soothing for me may be the steady roll of waves softly breaking on shore. While we’re on the beach, a small group of calling sea gulls is a nice sound effect, though a large group can become a bit raucous.

Water has a considerable reputation as soothing, be it ocean waves, a bubbling brook or a gentle fountain. A soft rain, however, is tremendously comforting and tends to mellow out more disruptive sounds.

I also enjoy closing my eyes and listening to the wind rustling the tops of pine trees.

Chirping birds, crickets, frogs, locusts all blend for a lulling concert, a neighbor’s cow covering the bass notes.

Manmade music can be a comfort also, different kinds appealing to different people. I came across an Incan band several years ago whose music I find relaxing.

Then there is the sound of happy children, engaging in play and giggling with each other. That brings to mind my own grandson, who is just reaching the age where he will start coming and going more independently through our screen door, undoubtedly letting it slam behind him as he runs outside.

Note to self: Do not complain about the slamming of the screen door; Charles may be developing comforting memories of his own.