Soundwalk
Walking down Broadway on 145th street, the first sounds that pierce my eardrums are that of a bus stopping and unloading passengers. I hear the clutter of people stepping off. It is the late afternoon, many people have gotten off of work and school. I hear mini conversations as I breeze by people. The sound marks are a mixture of the English and Spanish language every block I walk. I’m in Hamilton Heights, right between Harlem and Washington Heights, which is heavily populated with people of Latin descent. This lets me know I’m in my neighborhood. It is more chilly than usual. I hear the leaves in the trees crinkle and the branches shake. As I cross streets, the light turns yellow. The sudden uproar of car engines start as the light turns green. Screeching tires and pressed cement. The chitter chatter of Con Edison workers as they work on the side of the street folds into unexpected vibrations felt and heard by their truck. The more steps I take, the barks of a dog become louder. There...