From the early March 2014 edition of The North Woods Call
Am I the only one bothered by noise?
Sometimes it seems that way.
If some guy isn’t speeding past my house on a motorcycle without a muffler, somebody else is lighting fireworks, or popping off rounds from a high-powered rifle.
Wherever I go, horns are honking, tires are squealing and radios are blaring. I hear whistles, bells and chain saws. Even a quiet snowshoe outing in northern Michigan was marred by snowmobiles racing through the trees.
Mother Teresa said, “We need silence to be able to touch souls.” I think that’s true. Too much noise is the enemy of deep thought and spiritual renewal. It rattles our nerves and numbs our minds.
Unfortunately, noise is among the most pervasive forms of pollution. It comes from many sources—road traffic, airplanes, jet skis and garbage trucks. Not to mention construction equipment, lawn and garden machinery, and boom boxes. I’ve read that urban noise is doubling every eight to ten years.
The problem isn’t just that noise is an unwanted assault on the soul. It can damage human health and well-being. Stress, high blood pressure, sleep interruptions and lost productivity are just a few of the maladies linked to noise pollution.
My father and his stepfather were railroad men on the Michigan Central line. They spent their lives with loud steam and diesel locomotives. “Grandpa Steve” was the first to become “hard of hearing,” as the old folks said. Now my dad—as well as many of his retired co-workers—are in the same shape. And lately I’ve been traveling down the same set of rails—probably due to lawn and garden equipment, former factory jobs and perhaps my own brief stint on the Penn Central Railroad.
Hearing loss is common in a noisy world. And, of course, it’s one of the dubious perks of aging.
I grew up on a non-working farm in rural Michigan. I would often lie awake at night listening to a nearby whippoorwill, or the summer breeze blowing through the maple tree outside my bedroom window. In the morning, birds perching in that same tree would wake me with their songs. I don’t hear those sounds as often anymore. My ears are less capable, but I’m also too distracted by the clatter of modern life.
We probably need better regulations and enforcement to limit noise in the areas we share. Polluting public spaces shouldn’t be allowed. After all, society has long recognized our right to be free from physical assault, or to breathe clean air and drink clean water. Shouldn’t we also have the right to peace and quiet?
Some people would say the bluegrass music I enjoy qualifies as noise pollution. But I try to play it softly. A good neighbor keeps his noise to himself.
If you ask someone to name our most precious natural resources, you’ll probably get answers like water, trees and animals. But what about quiet? It may be one of our most endangered assets.
Henry David Thoreau said that nothing was as startling to him as his own thoughts. I wonder sometimes if we’d even recognize ours.
Quiet is a good thing. And we’re losing it fast.
