celestial music

Okay. You're either going to think I'm nuts. Or, not.
Today I'm hearing celestial music. Really. It's kind of like the honking of a multitude of horns from very far away, ebbing and flowing. It's not so much a monotone as a chord held for a very very very long time.
It's a sound I haven't heard in a very very very long time. And I think it's because I've started meditating again.
The universe of course if full of sounds. Most of them are annoying, at least in the city. But when they all converge together, they do create a kind of music. And that's what I'm hearing today. A bed of music against which is also playing the sound of my computer keys, conversations in the office, phones ringing, airplanes flying by, and the white noise of the hvac unit.
Years ago, when I lived in Los Angeles, in a house in the Los Feliz hills, just below Griffith Park, I used to hear celestial music all the time. But it was more haunted. The house we lived in was below the main house. It had actually been a swimming pool in the hey day of historic Hollywood mansions. I imagined pool parties with women dressed in sparkling evening gowns, smoking cigarettes with long diamond studded holders, drinking glistening martinis.
The place was definitely haunted, though not in a malevolent way. Just souls who hadn't passed over and on.
Today's celestial symphony is almost train like. I wonder where it will be taking me...
At this moment, on the 18th floor of a New York City high rise office building, it has taken me to summer as a child. The celestial music has become the whir of a distant lawn mower or low flying plane. I am surrounded by grasses and trees. There is nothing to do but stare at clouds in the sky, watch green leaves shimmer in the afternoon sun.
And speaking of trees...I am doing some drawing research for a project I am working on - continuation of my Axis Mundi/Spirit Guide work - and came across this amazing work by Tim Knowles.