La musique de Paris

Living in the city brings a lot of new sounds to the ears.  We have the Catholic church right around the corner ringing its bells hourly and most importantly for some reason ringing for a full minute at 8 p.m. Which happens to be the bedtime for the tiniest monkey in our house. She hears the bells ring in sucession, she knows it is bed time.  Generally it works, usually it doesn't.  Anyway,  Allie has heard a lot of sounds living on a very busy street.  One sound is more prominent than the bells.  The fire station is right around the corner.  It drives me nuts to hear the sound of sirens and wakes me up at times.  I curse the city at those times. I long for the quiet suburbs.

Now, think of Allie and her mom on a bus which we use a lot.  Driving through one of the most feared and congested areas of Paris to yet another park.  We hear the sounds of a fire engine or two.  Allie states, "listen momma the music of Paris."  I stop in my tracks.  I think of this young child not thinking of doom and gloom but of pretty sounds and cool lights.  She is enjoying the "noise."

I take notice and learn from my three year old yet again.