Guided by Beeps

Wherever we go, whatever we do, we are audibly accosted by beeps, peeps, pings, and chirps.  Tweets, too, but that’s a different matter.

A friend mentioned this recently and now I can’t get it out of my head.

Our house beeps to tell us we have intruders, that the smoke detector needs a new battery, that the toast is done, the coffee is hot, the printer has balked (again), a text has arrived, the clothes are dry.

The Mister’s new car has its own set of beeps and pings.  Warning, alerting, demanding.  Annoying.

Beeps are a bit like naughty children.  Tend to their needs and they’ll go away.  But they’ll be back.  Soon.

This morning I heard a beep.  Then another.  I was initially alarmed.  What’s wrong now?  Can it be fixed and how soon?   I looked for the source, ready to do battle.   What I found was a little bird, happily peeping away in a nearby tree.

To mis-quote T. S. Eliot: “Is this the way the world ends?  Not with a bang or a whimper but a beep?”


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