One of the things I really miss from our time in Sweden is the quiet. From deep in the ancient forest where all you can hear are birds and the rustle of the wind, to being on the edge of the Baltic where the wind rattles ropes against masts. A place where you could hear nature, where the air smelled delicious, where you could contemplate the world.
Sadly, one of the things that really annoys me about where we live is the noise that comes floating across our back garden every day from the Farnham bypass. This grows to more than mere annoyance when the weather turns glorious and it’s a weekend. Like today.
It’s days like today that I really wish I had telekinetic powers. If only I could lift things with my mind and throw them into orbit. In particular, the irritating people who seem to spend all their life making their motorbikes as annoyingly loud and obnoxious as possible.
Why? What is lacking in their lives that they need to announce their arrival and departure to everyone within a ten mile radius? What do they like about the awful burbling sound? Do they think it makes them sound tough? Do they like to think they’re sitting on a roaring lion or something?
If that is the case, I have news for them. They actually sound like they are riding a very sick, bloated, complaining, not long for this world, cow.
And the noise gets even worse when you walk up into the park, where there are no barriers to absorb the sound. Which is where I took the girls today, given Mirinda was off out having lunch with Sophie.
Obviously, Emma spent the entire time chasing a tennis ball while Freya went exploring before sitting next to me on a bench, watching Emma wear herself out.
Apart from the noise, it was a glorious day and one we enjoyed completely. Not that the noise ever bothers the girls. And I had sardines for lunch, after all.
