Written by: Ruth Meyer


What do you hear my granddaughters?

We hear butterflies landing so softly on the flowers
and the sound of blowing bubbles; we love, also, to hear them pop!
Birds are singing their own special tunes yet they blend as a well rehearsed choir. 
The hummingbirds darting from flower to flower—why do they so like Red?
The ice cream man is coming we hear his familiar tune!
Chalk makes a delicious sound as we drag it across the driveway 
in our first attempts at art.
We hear our own squealing voices as we run through the sprinkler, the cold water
hitting our warmed skin.

What do you hear my grandsons?

We hear the rustling of leaves as we climb the ladder to our tree house
and the growling of lawn mowers next door.
Our dogs are barking as they revel in the extra attention received when school is out.
The strange croaking sound in the evening comes from our resident frog—named Fred.
Bees are buzzing in the lavender plants; time to go inside!
But we hear dad’s BBQ sizzling as fat drips from steaks on to charcoal.
The sounds of our sports:  basketballs thumping, the crack of bats as we make home runs,
if only in our imaginations.
The best sound we hear," Let's go to the beach and have a picnic!”

Many years ago it was said that children were to be seen but not heard!