Sound Walk

When you think of New York City, my neighborhood is definitely not the first one that comes to mind. I live in the forgotten suburbs of Staten Island, in between a deserted beach and a major road that goes through the entirety of the borough. I decided to take advantage of this unique sonic landscape, and chose my street for the observation. I walked down the block, to the dirt path entrance of the beach, but opted to not go in so I get a variety of sounds. Two constant, ambient sounds were the ocean and the cars zooming by on the street. Whether it was the waves gently crashing on the shore or the car engines droning, both of these sounds were continually present. Ever so often you here a dog barking from a nearby backyard, a horn honking from Hylan Boulevard, and a once a siren rushing by. As I walked around, I heard gates opening, screeching against the concrete, leaves and pebbles crunching under my shoes, and occasionally cars that deviated from the main road and passed a few feet away from me as I walk on the street because of the lack of sidewalk. A family walking their dog passed, the dog panting and his collar jingling. In the distance, I surprisingly enough heard the sound of an ice cream truck jingle (yes, in October.) I most enjoyed the contrast the the sounds of the beach to the busy street parallel to it. I've lived here most of my life and it's something that I'm used to and take for granted. For two very different landscapes, they work well together and are almost soothing.