I'm not sure which is worse: listening to the incessant backup beep of the construction lift across the street, or hearing about Miley Cyrus' twerking. Either could be the noise that puts me over the top.
"The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;-
Living in the city, I am used to a certain level of noise and certain types of noises: 4 a.m. garbage trucks, fire and ambulance sirens, train traffic and weekend revelers. The building across the street, however, has created days of constant din.
And then there's the clamor of culture: political ads, gun debates, war rumblings, twittering fools, movie trailers and an uproar over twerking (a word I just learned).
I am so looking forward to being on North Caicos again.
Oh, I know that the island is not as quiet as we seem to think. There are barking dogs at night, rooster alarm clocks, loud arguments in Creole, preachers who believe their harangues must be shared across the island and Dominican music that apparently can be played only at full volume.
But it's much easier there to block out the other kind of noise, to unplug. Sure, it's possible to turn off the TV and computer and to leave the cellphone behind here in America, but most people find it too hard because it leaves a void in their lives. North Caicos gives me something else to connect to: a beach, the ocean, night skies full of stars and a local culture that is endlessly puzzling and amusing.
But why am I writing this? William Wordsworth said it so much better:
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;-
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not. Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
"The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;-
Living in the city, I am used to a certain level of noise and certain types of noises: 4 a.m. garbage trucks, fire and ambulance sirens, train traffic and weekend revelers. The building across the street, however, has created days of constant din.
And then there's the clamor of culture: political ads, gun debates, war rumblings, twittering fools, movie trailers and an uproar over twerking (a word I just learned).
I am so looking forward to being on North Caicos again.
Oh, I know that the island is not as quiet as we seem to think. There are barking dogs at night, rooster alarm clocks, loud arguments in Creole, preachers who believe their harangues must be shared across the island and Dominican music that apparently can be played only at full volume.
But it's much easier there to block out the other kind of noise, to unplug. Sure, it's possible to turn off the TV and computer and to leave the cellphone behind here in America, but most people find it too hard because it leaves a void in their lives. North Caicos gives me something else to connect to: a beach, the ocean, night skies full of stars and a local culture that is endlessly puzzling and amusing.
But why am I writing this? William Wordsworth said it so much better:
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;-
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not. Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.