A Subsumed Cacophony

A city is often a cacophonous space. Of course, cacophony comes in many forms. The roar of the ocean can feel cacophonous, as can the intensity of surrounding bug life in the wild. The cacophony of the city is unique from those other forms because the noise comes not from manifest dense uniformity but from myriad distinct, often unidentifiable sources acting as if at once. All this was running through my mind as I stood on a corner in San Francisco listening as hotel workers were engaged in a lively strike halfway down the block. The noise of their activity joined with that of passing foot and automobile traffic to create something that was at once noisier than a normal Thursday afternoon, and yet also that perpetuated the city’s ability to absorb all sounds into one sound. No matter the sounds, it was the sound of the city.

(The image is a reworking of a public domain photo via Wikipedia of a 1956 strike.)