I was at a workshop recently where one of the presenters asked how many people woke up every morning to an alarm clock. I did not raise my hand. I do not use an alarm clock to wake up and haven’t in years as the result of a promise to be kindler and gentler to myself.
I don’t hear the blare of an alarm clock, but what I do hear every morning is a bugle call at five minutes to eight. And then precisely at 8:00am the strains of the Star Spangled Banner float over the village of Coronado. It is the morning ritual at North Island and one I truly appreciate.
There is a similar acknowledgement at day’s end that involves the playing of Taps. It really is quite inspirational and patriotic.
There are other sounds that fill the air in Coronado. Some are unique to this little village, and some are heard elsewhere but will always mean Coronado to me.
Sometimes before the Naval Base announces the start of its day, you can hear the new recruits being put through their drills down at Sunset Park. The bark of the Leader is answered by the sharp retort of numerous voices. I have seen these drills up close and I can tell you that these guys and gals are really put through their paces.
One of my favorite sounds that I only hear if I am actually in the village is the sound of the bells ringing out the time from Christ Episcopal Church. On the half hour it is a short little series, and on the hour, they play an entire song. During the Christmas season, they sometimes replace the hourly tolling with a Christmas hymn.
At night when the village has gone to sleep and I am lying in bed, I fall asleep to the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore with the ebb and flow of the tide. It is a soothing sound, very rhythmic. Even when there is a storm and the ocean is angry, I love the sound of the surf.
On those peaceful nights when the sound of the surf is at its loudest, the Freight Train Horn will echo off in the distance. It is loud at first and then trails off as the train makes its way north.
Other nights when the fog rolls in thick and heavy, throughout the night the freighters and other ships will lay on their Fog Horn. Deep resonating bellows float through the smoky night, a strong and confident sound.
These daily sounds contribute to the charm of Coronado for me. They are ingrained in life here and it wouldn’t be the same without any of them. Come visit sometime and listen for yourself.
