A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE

A Personal Experience

A Personal Experience

In love with sound, the way it comes to out, the chime on grandfather's vegetable motor truck finding me if I was up the backyard apple crop tree, inside at the piano, or playing ball two dwellings down.   The winter sound of milkman's equine on bare or Snowy Street. From when I was two or three, my parents' voices: My father's as he educated me to notify left hand from right, and his entertained pitch when I turned myself round and inquired if now they were switched. No sound more full of significance ...