The one about the rainforest…

Photo by Knut Robinson on Unsplash

I have an amazing capacity (not wishing to boast or anything) for creating mountains out of molehills. A lifelong gift that has not abated with the passage of time. I must question, however, when there’s enough pain and sorrow in the Middle East, whether my molehills-to-mountains track record deserves air-time.

Ah, you be the judge. Read on.

About that putative mountain I created. Yeah, that mountain. Somewhere around 10 PM recently, already in bed, I began to hear what sounded like running water, an owl hooting, and birds periodically chirping. 10 pm, mind you. OK, yes, Ms. Compulsive got up, walked through the kitchen to my back door. Opened it, stuck my puzzled head outside, and heard… nothing. I also did a quick walk-through of the rest of the house, but my bedroom still seemed to be ground zero for the noise follies. Admittedly, I placed an inquiring ear to several walls in my bedroom and heard….nothing. Returning to bed, I continued to hear running water noises and periodic bird sounds.

Oh, wait, forgetting to mention that I experience the proverbial princess-and-the-pea-on-a-mattress syndrome. I’m a sensitive camper for whom it takes very little to undermine my peace of mind when trying to sleep. In other words, this self-identified princess-and-the-pea syndrome sufferer, was non-stop shifting around in the bed, trying NOT to hear what I was clearly hearing, continually running water accompanied by periodic bird sounds. And of course, this, uh, phenomenon, drove me to get out of bed, yes, one more time, for yet another untoward noise inspection tour of the house. Same old, same old. Sigh.

Suddenly, I remembered my sequestered stash of ear plugs, rarely ever used. Found and applied them! Relief. Even with the effective ear plugs, I was riled up enough with my water conundrum that sleep took its time coming to me. Oy!

Morning. Removed those little ear plugs, confident the sounds had finally disappeared overnight. Not. OMG! Did a run-through of the house again, including the washing machine, which I’d forgotten last evening. Zip. Sat down to think. Fully aware of my molehills-to-mountains capacity, I decided to borrow the ears of a good neighborhood friend. She kindly came down the hill and knocked on my door.

First stop was my (quiet) living room. A quick trip through the (quiet) kitchen also occurred. Now, my bedroom. We entered (after my apology for the mess) and I gingerly asked if she heard IT, you know, those running water noises. She listened and finally said, “No” (oh no!) However, she did perceive some difficult-to-discern sounds emanating from Alexa, my AI (artificial intelligence) unit. I’d pushed it against a wall so my brand-spanking new knee would have one less thing to trip over (well, with the exception of my own two feet, but that’s another story.)

As I leaned down to better hear the undefinable noises from Alexa, I realized, with a jolt (a really big jolt), we’d hit pay-dirt! Those “sounds” were the Alexa unit’s Rainforest soundtrack, running water accompanied by bird and owl sounds. Bingo! We both burst out laughing - me, primarily from abject relief. My Alexa device heard something it interpreted as a request for “Rainforest” sounds and clearly complied (all night long.) The AI unit was far enough removed from my sight line, that I….well, you already know what transpired.

And in those few moments of joint hilarity at my expense, light made its way into both our lives. There was room enough in my life to hold both the Middle East sadness and the joy of being alive. I’d like to remember that…