Maybe. Maybe a very small, whispery rustle of sound. One that only a few would hear. But in our world of LOUD everything, small whispery sounds are instantly forgotten. 

MURMUR.

SIGH.

whisssssper.

Along the shores of Lake Superior, the waves fall onto the rocky sand, and their understated sounds and my ears are perfectly attuned. 

The infrequent breezes through my yard agitate my wind chimes and play the melodic sounds. A gift for me. The breeze comes unbidden, swirling through the chimes, bringing out the fullness of the tones. 

I walk the path in the forest, hearing gentle sounds of trees and animals. This is the pace and the intensity that I love. This is what nourishes my soul.