I read somewhere once that the most pleasing sound to a person is their name. I don’t remember the reasoning, but I suspect it has something to do with being acknowledged, remembered…known. Makes sense, so I do make an effort to learn how to say people’s names properly and to remember them. Granted, it takes a lot more effort these days than when I was younger, but definitely worth it to see people smile upon hearing their name called.

Personally, I am partial to the sound of babies laughing. It is such a purely joyful sound. It never fails to make me smile. I suspect it also makes a lot of other people smile given the number of videos of babies laughing I’ve seen over the years.

The sounds of certain instruments can make me weep: the piccolo,the flute, the violin. A well-played piano or guitar. It’s quite possible my husband playing the classical guitar for me ensured I’d say yes when he asked me to marry him many moons ago. Now that illness has made it impossible for him to play, I am ever more grateful for the many hours my son sat with him as a teenager, and learned to play the numerous pieces his dad had played for us over the years. Sometimes when he visits, he plays them for me. Last year, when traveling with him and his girlfriend, I got to hear him play new music he’d learned so that he could accompany her. My heart nearly burst with joy when his voice joined with hers in harmony.

I also love the myriad sounds of silence: the silence in the kitchen right now as I type these words. The sounds of morning, sporadic and muffled beyond my window, as the day is just beginning. The silence of a summer night when the cacophony of insect sounds is like a symphony that lulls me to sleep. The silence after a heavy snowfall when the world is so very still. The silence of some mountains I’ve climbed, where nothing can be heard except the wind.

Sweet are the sounds of the birds

in the early dawn.

The distant sound of a call to prayer or a Sunday church bell.

The sweet smell and sound of a summer rain.

The calm after a storm.

The gentle whispers of the breeze as she kisses the wheat ready for harvest

SShhwishh, SShhi, SShwishh.

Driving home from a football game. Gone wrong may be an exaggeration, but it takes 5 minutes of walking back to the car for the headache to fade. We finish an embarrassing conversation that leaves me wondering if I've said too much.

The blinker clicks. I mutter under my breath. I try not to take my turn too sharp and end up in the opposite lane; I successfully turn. I had told her before that she could put on music. Now, soft guitar fills the car, accompanied by her voice harmonizing and her fingers dancing up and down in the air as she follows the notes. Her hair is an apricot orange, lit by the golden hour autumn sun. Leaves float down from the trees and rush towards the car, skimming the windshield. She lets me leave the windows down.

It is the rushing of the wind. It is her voice lilting as she sings. It is her small, happy laugh when I offer my hand at a long red light. It is my headache fading. It is my insecurities lifted. The earth whirs, but my mind is calm.

What's an engineered sound? Something that's been processed through a machine or edited heavily or is produced as the result of careful orchestration (source: me). Every sound I thought of (that was sfw) was a sound effect from an on-screen something that I watched with either really good headphones or Bose speakers on either side of me. Just to spit it out, these were them:

-Benimaru Shinmon's Crimson Moon

-The lion roars in Disney movies (look up the process, it's so cool)

-Shinra Kusakabe's little electro glitch sound whenever he blasts off and weaves

-"Ban~KAI" (see the theme)

-The close up and magnified crackling sounds of a fire burning in movies n stuff

In particular, Crimson Moon is elite. The electronic, bassy, spacious, resonant sound that feels much larger than it is is not only perfect for its corresponding visual and rightfully touted as one of the best FX in anime, but it also takes silence as the perfect accent to an absolutely peak fight climax in such a hurried and chaotic fight sequence. It hits all the marks for purpose, execution, style, compliment, and creativity. Okay, that aside

The thing I love about sounds like that is how effortful it really is to get it sound like that, to get it to sound just right and just natural enough in whatever it appears in. I never think of all the effort that goes into finding, tuning, and reproducing the sounds I hear, but foley art is so fascinating and frankly, very fun. It's comical when you see it happening, and completely undetected otherwise. It flies so low under the radar that you know it, but you don't really know it, know it. yk?

I watch a lot of cartoons. Voice acting is one thing, but the orchestration for such simple FX like a door opening or a leaf crunching is disproportionately misleading. It's so much fun to watch a grown man growl into a metal trash bin to make the sound of a lion roar, or watch entire heads of lettuce get obliterated to make the sound of walking through grass.

Obviously I'm not actively thinking about these ridiculous things when I'm immersed in my escapist hobby of watching stuff on a TV, but it's so fun to think about and giggle at. So much work goes into the silliest sounds sometimes that I'd rather hear the machined art than organic, more natural sounds like animal sounds, aesthetic asmr, and things that evoke peace. I want problems, I want chaos, I want to hear what the future feels like. Engineered sounds are the best

The most pleasing sound to me is a page being turned. The crispness of an unflawed page being touched by my fingertips...with each turn continuing the story pulling me in and making me a part of it. The words washing over me creating and touching my emotions whether fiction or non fiction....whether it is making me laugh, scaring me by filling me with suspense or enlightening me...the simple movement of flipping through the pages brings me complete joy. The satisfaction of closing the book after completing that final page....

Sadness has a way of bringing people together. As we sat on a park bench, one rainy evening, I was screaming and scornfully bringing out all his faults. He sat there silently listening, holding back his tears, questioning his own worthiness. I knew he was not a bad man, but a little absent minded. We sat there swelling with weighty emotions. I held him tightly bursting out into tears, whimpering about my anxieties about our future together. As I sat there drained I felt something suddenly. Warm hands engulfed me, tears fell on my hairline and I could hear heartbeats thudding. That was my melody, my hymn.

The underlying chords are warm— enough to remind me of streetlights warding off the darkness of night, but the harmony woven into these basic chords tells a complex story. The notes twirl upward like snowflakes blowing in the wind, the notes going down in brief respite before launching upward towards the sky.

The constant rhythm of the backing chords mixes so well with the conflictingly sorrowful but playful harmony. It evokes a sense of yearning as the tension builds. There is a sense of bittersweet nostalgia, especially for one’s childhood memories. All of these thoughts come from the right hand’s soothingly gentle but firm stance accompanied by the supportive but empathetic left hand. From these two hands weaves the thread by which the music flows.

From within the depths of quiet winter nights, the music suddenly shifts. There is now a bounce of staccato in the left hand with an uplift to the higher register from the right hand. The urgency grows exponentially, reaching a breaking point.

Swinging back and forth, like a pendulum with no center, the hands shakes the keys. Just as it becomes unbearable, the tension disappears and fades away, like a wisp of vapor from a cold breath.

The artist solemnly lands the harmony and cushions the final vibrations, letting the echoes reverberate as he looks at his keys, contemplative and lost in his wonderland.

No sound can be more pleasant than your mother's voice, especially when you are ill, depressed, having a hard time, sick of the world around you, feel like you can't carry your burdens anymore, then, her soothing, full of love voice eases your pain miraculously. It makes you feel alive. It's heavenly. Even if she isn't able to solve the problem and you know it too, her voice and words are enough to heal you. It cannot be compared to any other sound of the world.

Mother's voice sounds unarguably unique. In this world full of fakeness and pretentiousness, she is real, and full of love. She might not be able to understand your problem, but she understands you the most. Even science has proved that talking to your mother and listening to her voice heals depression.

People who can still hear this voice or sound are truly blessed. I pray we can hear this voice all our lives. Cherish this blessing called mother, never take her for granted!!

In my mind, I'd say genuine laughter is the best sound to hear. It's pure happiness in audio form. You can hear someone laughing and catch the virus, start giggling like a fool as well. It's what a lot of us are looking for when we go to apps like Tiktok. A break from the general mundaneness of reality most times. Laughter is a small crack in the routine, for a moment all is lifted off the shoulders; a natural high. So... Yeah. Laughter. Just laughter. Whether it's babies or old people or the in-between, that shit is beautiful man. Better than any drug.

The most pleasant sound is the ocean. This sound is so lovely because the second I hear it all of my problems disappear. All the hate or anger I might have melts away. Every horrible thought leaves me the second I hear the salty melody drifting into my ears. After I hear the first wave crash I am swept off my feet. It is like I am levitating and don't need my legs anymore. This sound is so incredible because no matter what the day is or what the weather is like, the sound can carry me out of any situation or problem I might find. The ocean is the most pleasant sound to a person.