8/2/2025 Yuki Iijima
What is the sound that a person hears the most in their life?
When I asked AI, it returned answers like car sounds or the sound of one’s own voice. But I think it’s something else. My answer would be “the sound of air.”
The flow of air. When you step outside, you can hear the wind’s voice. Even on windless days, if I walk, I can hear the sound of air flowing. Inside the house, you can hear the sound of air from the air purifier or air conditioner.
I have an interesting story about sound. A Japanese director once included the sound of cicadas in his film, but the foreign sound engineer removed it. To Japanese people, the sound of cicadas is a clear and nostalgic “voice” that reminds us of summer, but foreigners apparently perceive it as “noise.” Similarly, the sound of frogs from rice fields is also considered a “voice” to Japanese people, but merely “sound” to foreigners. It’s strange, isn’t it?
I am sensitive to sound. Because I have a good ear, when I hear more than one sound at once, if the sounds clash, I can’t help but focus on the dissonance, no matter how pleasant the conversation may be. That’s why, when I want to concentrate, I choose places with no sound. When I visited New York, the sound of car horns really got to me. That almost constant noise ruined my sightseeing experience.
But not all sounds in the world are bad. When I lived in Brighton, a seaside town in England, I’d wake up to the sound of seagulls in the morning. Unlike being woken by an alarm, it was a sound that gave me a pleasant awakening.
Speaking of bird sounds, I also hear crows. The place I live now is in the suburbs, a town where nature and the city coexist, with a small mountain nearby. In the evening, I hear the calls of crows.
I’ve been commuting to Asagaya for a year now, but I’ve never heard a crow’s call there, even though I see them. Apparently, crows in the city become more wary and don’t call. It might also be that their calls get drowned out by car sounds and the hustle of the city.
I’m afraid of Asagaya. The stores and houses are tightly packed, and there are many narrow alleys. Even if I were to shout, I feel like my voice would get swallowed up, drawn into those alleys, and lost in the deep spaces that extend beyond.
But the reason I continue to go to Asagaya is because there are people in the buildings who will listen to my voice. It’s a town that acknowledges my existence. Away from the heart of the city, this place is filled with shops that soothe a tired heart.
Perhaps you should visit someday.