Cacophony of chatter, chaos and beauty |

The birds outside my bedroom window go crazy every morning. I love it.

They wake up – sometimes one by one, other times in groups – all with something to say, something to contribute to. Maybe they are calling friends or family; perhaps they are marking their territory or chasing squirrels from their nest; maybe they just love being sung. It doesn’t matter to me. I just like the music – and or – the noise they make.

Because when everyone chirps and tweets and whistles and trills and screeches and croaks and whistles and pecks and screeches it often doesn’t sound much like music. It is almost as if each are trying to overcome the other, and this comes as a rather chaotic cacophony.

I didn’t invent that term myself. I felt it and I knew I loved it and I knew it was the stuff of a column.

And then I thought about the birds in the morning, and figured out where the cacophony would land.

Bird calls are a cacophony of chaos. They compete with each other and contribute to the general symphony of noise. It’s music and chaos at the same time.

Birds create musical chaos: I thought it was over.

Until I found myself sitting on the edge of a swimming pool in the afternoon. I was in love with the sun.

Then the children entered. Sometimes one by one, but mostly in groups, accompanied by their adult counterparts. They made their way into the water and it was obvious from the start that everyone had something to contribute. They started calling sisters and brothers – soaking and diving, squealing and giggling – each claiming their place in the pool. Some have asked for the attention of adults to see them play a water feature. Others cheered loudly as they swam or dived. They added to their noise by splashing and laughing.

They were, in a word, noisy. It was almost as if everyone was trying to outdo each other.

I did not care.

I love the sound of children playing: their chatter, their screams, their screams and their laughter. Neither of them seem to listen to the other, because they often don’t, and I really like to tune into their own fun and cheer. It is almost as if each were trying to speak over the other and this presents itself as a second cacophony of chaos.

Another! Who would have thought that this cacophony could happen more than once in nature?

It made me think.

Maybe the cacophony isn’t so much an accident. Maybe the chaos is planned.

Maybe chaos is more common than we think. Birds in the yard. Children in the pool. A family reunion. The dynamics of a workplace. A game of baseball, basketball or football. A group of friends from high school or college. A book club. A golf group. A classroom. A neighborhood. A church. A school.

Maybe we are all part of the cacophony of chaos. Wouldn’t he be adorable?

I think maybe it would be. Maybe it already is. Because lately I’ve come to the conclusion that maybe chaos is good, if we allow it.

Appreciate your chaos.

– Jill Pertler is an award-winning syndicated columnist, published playwright and author. Don’t miss a slice; follow the Slices of Life page on Facebook.

Leave a Comment