Standing on the bridge of Cascadilla Creek, I am surrounded by the serenity of the gorge. I hear my boots scuffling on the snow as I walk across the bridge. As the water whistles, its echo fills my ears. Closing my eyes, I am transported to a beach, listening to the sounds of the ocean waves. A slight buzzing above me becomes louder – a truck driving on the nearby road. The birds start cooing. I hear the crackling of icicles on the branches of the leafless trees. As time passes, these sounds converge into one harmonious sequence. The eeriness of its unity surprisingly puts me at ease.