Sounds of Main Street

Since Jim and I live on Main Street I can sometimes hear the strangest things.  I hear the music from the Karaoke bar down the street.  I hear Mexican music sometimes from the park.  I hear bells from our windchimes but I hear other bells too.  They drift across the lawn of the park and across the few lots to my window.  I hear drag racing.  Just now as a matter of fact.  I hear the industrial sized heat pump from the next roof and I hear alley cats fighting over the food I put out to keep them full and secure and out of the garbage.  I hear conversations that would probably never want to be overheard and I hear the single man that spends way too many nights down at the pub on his way home as he sings a funny song. I hear every kind of horn on every car.  Right now someone is laying on their horn beckoning someone to "get back in the car!"  It sounds like a toy car horn and I have to go see what kind of car makes that sad beep.  Strangely it was from a tiny pickup.  I know the difference between a police siren, a fire engine siren and an ambulance.  I hear the cows mooing as they are mingling about at the Livestock commission.
I hear car radios and very large trucks carrying milk to the processing plant.  I hear planes and trains and say a prayer whenever I hear the life flight overhead, the next door shop has the funniest bell notifying the back entrance has just been used.  I hear my own clock and the clock at the Catholic church a couple of blocks away.
In the middle of the night (and I don't care whether you believe it or not so don't bother telling me if you don't) voices and conversations that seem to come out of the walls.  Tender sweet conversations that are so close to me understanding their words but never quite there. 
This summer I heard many a bat flying down my hall.  I hear Oliver either chasing one of those or lately a bug from outside that will meet its demise and I hear Mickey pretending to be in some kind of great battle as she tears around every corner. 
In the morning I can hear the dryer downstairs as the tanning salon hums and flows.  I hear Randy watering the flowers and conversing with Kathy as they review their weekend doings.
I hear people coming and going and whistling and humming and instructions yelled across the street for an extra crispy french fry order.
But late at night is when I hear the best.  It is so quiet and yet so noisy.  I wonder if I could ever live where it is quiet. I can't recall ever living somewhere in a "normal" neighborhood where folks mostly complain about a dog barking in the middle of the night.  Now that is one thing I don't hear very often at all.  Strange.  I wonder what I would do if I lived somewhere where there was no noise. 
A couple of months ago I heard God speak to me.  Perhaps that was not a voice that others would hear.  Perhaps He spoke to my heart but I heard Him nevertheless. 
Methinks this is a good thing.  A place where I can listen and hear.  That works for me.  Many folks would not be able to endure it.  I get that.  But for me I hear the best when there is so much to hear.
There is a jet flying overhead.  I wonder where they are headed.  Me?  I am headed to bed.