Dancing through the Demolition

With the work going on at the church, we're not able to be on site for a while, and I find myself pining for it. The city feels so noisy and crowded now! I can't walk the dog without bumping into people. Some neighbour must work a late shift, because his car zooms down our road in the wee hours every morning with bass thumping so loud it rattles our windows. (What is he listening to?) There are constant planes overhead from the nearby airport, and dogs who bark through their fences, and sirens, and cars choking the roads in front of Tim Hortons. Even in my garden I am bombarded with sound, and Brio goes into a barking frenzy as people walk by. I haven't had a good writing session in what feels like ages. I want a quieter life, a slower pace. Space to wander in nature, breathing clean air. Room to spread out and do yoga and dance. 

I was driving in the car with my son the other day, and he played music from his phone over the radio so we could both hear it. I love his music selections -- every era and genre, from Big Band to Swing to Jazz to Korean Pop to 50's Dance to Nordic Folk to Bing Crosby to 80's Rock to something wonderfully epic from a video game. When Smashmouth started walking on the sun, it was all I could do not to pull the car over right there and dance on the side of the road. Once the church is habitable, I want to throw open the doors, crank up the sound system, and have a village dance. If Covid will ever allow it! Maybe we could dance on the side lawn. My son would make a great DJ.