Sophie, your writing always reminds me of the adjustment period I go through, when I drive into town or the city.
I grew up in the wilds, moved to the city as a teenager, moved back to the mountains after college and never left again.
During the years I spent in the city, I realized that my senses were so acute (sharp and intense) that I heard, saw, smelled, tasted, and felt things other people did not (or could not) sense. City people found my ability to pick up on tone and inflection in their voices unnerving, invasive, or eerie. To get along, I had to learn to respond to people's words only, and ignore what their tone of voice said.
City people subconsciously tune out everything that is "normal" for them, but I could not tune it out - so I heard everything. While I can smell scat and trash a mile away, they can't smell their own cat boxes, trash cans, car fumes or perfumed scents on everything they own (pee yew). I search for the source of shadows, they never even notice. I sense moods, tension, play, and other emotional energy, that they do not notice. City people are loud; they talk loud and they walk hard. Even in high heels or tennis shoes, they sound like elephants - bam, bam, bam. They think their high heeled shoes go click, click, click, but they go boom, boom, boom to me.
Likewise, when my city friends come to visit, the sounds of nature frighten them, especially at night. While I tune out everything that is normal for me, they hear every bird, bush, tree, bug, animal, and snake around us.
In spring and summer, the sounds of bugs and critters outside at night is really loud. Since they don't know what makes those sounds, they are frightened, and have trouble sleeping. In fall and winter, the sound of silence frightens them so badly, they cannot sleep. When there is no moonlight, the darkness at night frightens them so badly, I leave a nightlight on.
When I stay overnight in the city, the sound of cars, traffic, horns, and the constant racket of neighbors disturbs my sleep. I cannot stand 24 hour daylight and with all their streetlamps, night lights, car lights, advertising signs, etc. cities never sleep.
There is great beauty in cities and nature, but until our senses adjust, its hard to see it.
Every once in a while, my family gathers around a campfire and sit in silence, listening to the world around us. In spring and summer, nature plays an orchestra that energizes us and we dance. In fall and winter, silence fills us with serenity and peace.
Aging takes its toll, and I am rather certain that moving to a city would kill me. I can't adjust anymore.
