My son's low, muffled laughter from the other side of the bedroom wall.
The scraping of the rake as my husband tends to the battered backyard.
The tinkling of wind chimes dancing with the wind.
The rumble of the washer as it gives the laundry one final spin.
The thundering of cats racing up the hall and down the stairs.
The rustling of clean sheets being put on the bed.
The tick-tick-ticking of the clock marking the passage of time.
And the soft resonating echo of days gone by.
This is the music of home.