Deaf sounds of summer

Today I am writing this from my Pinkberry, in the middle of a massive traffic jam.

It’s most annoying as I think it’s going to make me late for work.

Anyway, the gorgeous amazing sunshine that is streaming through the bus window has got me thinking...

Is summer nearly here?

I really hope so.

I love summer. I love all the sounds of summer.

For me, these are the drones of lawnmowers, the hum of the acrobatic planes near The Rents’ house, the whirr of aircon and the bass line from music drifting out of open windows.

Before I went as deaf as I am now, in fact when I was about 5 years old, I had very different sounds of summer. On holiday in Menorca one year, I remember drifting off to sleep to the sounds of crickets chirping, the low murmur of The Rents talking on the terrace, and the sound of David Fishel, the resident singer at the local bar singing about the worlds most dangerous man.

I didn’t know I was deaf then, no one did. Not even when my mum said ‘no’ and I thought she said ‘go’, and I ran out in front of a truck.

I wouldn’t really recommend doing this. There was blood. But on a plus side, everyone kept giving me presents!

But it never occurred to me that I might be deaf, nor to anyone else. They just thought I was being me, which at 5 was a big whirlwind of enthusiasm for doing everything at a 100mph.

So really, I guess I was just being me!