What sound would you miss if it suddenly disappeared from your life?

I’d miss the sound of horse hooves clacking on paved roads. I love that sound. I don’t know why this sound is important to me. I guess I when I was a kid I got hooked on the sound of horse hooves clacking on the road when I’d go for a hay ride pulled by horses.

I have never before lived where I had as much quiet as I have now—even though the freeway noise is a steady, distant hum and there are times when airport traffic is heavy, and there are all the usual sounds of an urban/suburban neighborhood. For a surprising amount of the time, especially when I’m home alone, I enjoy the nearest thing to silence. I notice it, I treasure it, and I would miss it greatly.

Beyond any doubt I would miss all the little sounds that come from my husband’s room (across the hall from mine) during the day: the snick of the mouse, the click of the keyboard, the creak of his desk chair, the soft thunk of his coffee mug coming to rest, the occasional cough, and especially the sudden barks of laughter, typically followed by a forward to my inbox.

He’s a noisy sleeper, too. Sometimes when he keeps me awake to the point that it gets on my nerves, I stop and think, no, I would never trade this for silence.

The sounds of the planes and jets flying over. I have lived by and on military bases my whole life.
I now can fall asleep when a transport plane vibrates my room, the low rumble holds comfort.
It distracts me from all the other noises that goes bump in the night.

Like many others here, I would like a lot less noise than I have now. We live two blocks from a major intersection and a fire department, so I hear sirens every day.

In my back yard, I can sit by the pool and listen to the breeze rustle through the redwoods in the yard next door and the bubbling of my pool fountain. Both sounds are easily reproducible if I were to move.

I really miss the sound and smell of the ocean. I lived in the Ocean Beach section of San Diego for several years, and I vacation there whenever I get a chance.

@YARNLADY I love the sound and smell of the ocean. I lived in Morro Bay, California for a short time and fell in love with the sound of fog horns. That is why I love the sound of barge horns now. I live next to the Illinois River, and the barge horns remind me of the fog horns I grew fond of in California.

cicadas. My favorite noise in the world.

The far off hum of lawnmowers. It’s the most nostalgic sound for me.

Most all of them except for rap music. Specifically I like to hear a train in the distance and the birds in the morning.

The various sounds of my cat, the sounds of birds in the morning, the sounds of the wind and the rain. The sounds of crickets. And believe it or not, the gentle purr of traffic as people start to go to work.

My fiance’s laugh.

my dog’s panting and walkin through the house.

Little kids laughing. It just makes me laugh and I love it. Also the sound of my fan while I’m sleeping. I’d never be able to sleep again! When I moved away from home at 19, I had a hard time getting used to being in town. I grew up way out in the country. And I really missed the sound of the train whistle. We had a train track a couple miles away from our house and I grew up hearing the faint sounds of the train in the night.

Music, of course. And my cat’s purring.

Some of the sounds I wouldn’t miss: the incessant barking of the dogs next door,car brakes screeching, leaf blowers, people talking on cellphones in public places at the top of their voices, caterwauling… and Glenn Beck’s voice.

Waves. I’d miss those.

Birds,boats and music ;)

The sound of breathing.

Music

I am missing the sound right now of my old cats ( he passed away in May ) little feet coming down my gravel driveway at night.

I most miss my deprated animal pals, and will dearly miss the sound of my geese happly honking when they hear my car coming down the road.

I have quite the welcoming committee when I come home! :-)

Milo here: Gail groaning at four in the AM when I feel like frisking around. Even though I jump on her with the best of intentions, she does not make a joyful noise. But I am fond of her, warts and all.

Hmmm. I would definitely miss my children’s laughter. I would also miss the sound of outdoor running water, like a brook, stream, creak, whatever. Oh, and the birdies that serenade my dog in the morning when she goes out to potty.

My boys arguing and Jack the Pug’s incessant snorting.

My boyfriends laughter, my dogs barking or (in the Staffies case) yowling (I can’t think of a better word for it), the sound of the traffic outside my bedroom window…..I’m sure there are more so I may return.

@Fiddle_Playing_Creole_Bastard

My most nostalgic sound is rainbird sprinklers, the chh, chh, chh, sounds on hot summer mornings/nights.

My neighbors turn theirs on every evening to water the trees around their pond up the hill, love that sound, and my own rainbird too. Every night we have the sound of dueling rainbirds on this little mountain.

Baby coos, crickets, cardinals and chickadees, thunder, rain, a distant train.

Sounds I hate; basket balls bouncing on the driveway, cicadas, whining.

Trains in the night.

There’s a grade crossing about a mile from my home, so they have to blow the horn (long-long-short-long) each time—both freight trains and Amtrak. Rather romantic if you don’t live too close.

Oops—looks like @knitfroggy & @wilma already mentioned that.

Yes @gasman during the day it’s just another noise, but in the still of the night it is intriguing.

the sound of the wind

I also can hear the train 14 times in 24 hours. Luckily I live 4 miles away and get to appreciate the Doppler effect. If in town and stuck at one of the two crossings, I have to put my fingers in my ears. The car almost levitates.

Today it is the sound of sweat dripping onto my glasses…another NE scorcher.

Church bells.

The tick-tock of my clocks. I got three in my room. They break the deafening silence.

Well, the barge horns have been replaced by train horns. The coyote calls by cows and various birds.

I’m happy where I’m at, and I enjoy the new sounds. Change isn’t that terrible after all.

Thanks again for all of your answers.

The honks of the Canada geese as they fly in formation and right on schedule.

And, of course, this.

My father’s whistling. He whistled the same tune, and only that tune, for 40–50 years, and it wasn’t anything recognizable. I think he made it up. Months after my mom died, it suddenly hit me hard one day when I realized that Dad wasn’t whistling anymore. It was so sad, knowing he missed her that much.