Sounds of celestial bodies
July 2nd, 2023
There are few sounds more pleasing and soothing than the sound of rain on the windowpanes and windowsills and the roof. Especially in the evening or at night when I already know I don't need to go out in the rain. When I hear the rain, I usually stop whatever it is I am doing and listen for a while. There is an internal rhythm to this sound and an ever-changing intensity — from the initial arpeggio to a short pianissimo interlude to a sudden crescendo and even to a pure fury and chaos of raindrops hitting various surfaces to create natural music.
I know when the rain is about to start a few minutes before the event — and I don’t need to consult the weather forecast and radar. My dog can hear the rain from afar. He brusquely gets up and starts to walk around sniffing and getting jittery before quickly finding a safe spot in the bathroom to lie down. And soon after, the rain starts. I am jealous of this ability — and we as humans are severely limited to only a narrow band of frequencies we can hear. Among animals, the ability to hear or feel vibrations coming from very low and ultra-high frequencies is common.
In a book I read recently, I found a curious passage — that although hearing planetary music is usually limited and reserved for supernatural states of consciousness, there are traditions that point to the lost reality of being able to hear more than what we are limited to today. Among the mythologies of Andean Indians, there are frequent mentions of the sound the sun makes on its raising. The same in the histories of Strabo — he writes how the sun makes a sound when setting beyond the straits of Gibraltar. And there is also a Jewish tradition that biblical prophets could hear music made by the sun at midday. So there might be more to it than just the occult or phantasy realms. Or maybe we, collectively as people, lost the abilities that our ancestors once had. Or maybe we have simply forgotten them in the constant and relentless cacophony of sounds that surround us at all times our whole lives?
