Music. It’s always there, surrounding me. The melodies swoop and glide and the harmonies soar above like an eagle. The bass rumbles, and the sweet high notes of the soprano cut through the air, right to the back of the room. The alto and tenor pull the other two together like an elastic band. All four work in unison to create music.
Music. It all started the day I was born. The beeping of the machines in the hospital kept the beat of my tiny newborn heart. The sound of a nurse’s feet clicking on the hard tile floor, arriving to check on me, was like the pulse of a metronome. The tapping of a doctor’s pen on a clipboard created a mesmerizing rhythm. Music. Then on the way home, the car motor thunders on like the deepest baritone. A bird’s song floats through the open window, shrill but soothing; the soprano. Finally, the tenor and alto pull it all together. The elastic band; the magnet. The soft, excited tones of my parents voices. It was my first chord.
From that moment on, music was everywhere. I fell asleep to the sound of the guitar and my Dad’s voice blending together, rising and falling as he played “Puff the Magic Dragon.” I dreamt about stars, twinkling, “like a diamond in the sky”. I woke up to my brother’s screechy tones as he learned how to play the violin. It was as if my ears were hungry, and they were eating up all of the notes they could find. I felt like I’d heard all of the music in the world.
As the leaves on the trees turned a shade of gold, Fall arrived, bringing Thanksgiving, Halloween, and Christmas with it. New tunes and carols came swirling down and all around, landing in huge drifts just like the snow outside. At home, the music floated out of the stereo. Sometimes the notes were softer, like that magical moment when it snows for the first time in winter. Other times, it was fast and upbeat, like the snow nipping at your nose as you fly down a hill on your sled. Occasionally, the songs were like rain, hitting the fresh snow and turning it into a muddy slush. Most of the time though, the songs turned our house into a winter wonderland.
As I grew older, the songs changed somehow. They grew with me. They weren’t just pretty notes anymore. They were real. Their identity changed as mine did, though some more than others. Some songs that were once bright and sunny became dark and stormy, or gloomy and drizzly. Some that were once sad and lonely songs became the happiest ones.
Every song describes a part of me; a part of my life. Music has always been there for me, through the good and the bad. Every time I hear an old song, it brings me back to that specific moment. Every time a new one comes, I know that it will come to represent a new portion of my identity. Music. It will always be there, surrounding me.