Snap, Crackle, Creak

I have to get used to new sounds.
   Back in SoCal I'd been in my place so long - eight years - there were sounds I just didn't hear any more. Like the guy next door leaving for work on his Harley. Or the garbage trucks backing up beeping, or the shower from the apartment downstairs.* Sounds so regular that I knew what they were and ignored them.
   Now I have a whole new set of sounds. Not creaks, this house I'm renting is too new for that, but there are... pops? Something falling? Something outside?
   Every time I hear a new sound my frightened-mammal brain perks up, it wants to know what caused that sound, where it came from, and how to prevent it from making that noise again. It's exhausting paying attention all the time.
   There are some things I recognize. Dogs outside. Training airplanes from the Air Force base flying overhead. Wind chimes from the wind-chime family in the house behind this one. I know what these are but I'm not used to them. And I'm certainly not used to the 'snap' of the refrigerator coming on. Or the clunk the ceiling fan makes when it is just coming up to speed. Or the moan of air being sucked up the chimney flue when the wind blows hard.
   I'll give it time. I really am glad to be home, but this is going to take some getting used to.



* I never got used to the fire trucks at the old folks' home across the street. Whenever I heard an approaching siren I held my breath, because if the sound stopped in front of my apartment that meant emergency workers were responding to a call in the old folks' home. I always hated that.