#eric reinheart

[itsloriel]

Travel and Adventure Photography by Eric Reinheart

[mightyflamethrower]

‘Flatowturm’ (Flatow Tower) at Babelsberg Park, Potsdam, Germany,

Built from 1853 to 1856 for Kaiser Wilhelm I according to designs by Johann Heinrich Strack.

Eric Reinheart Photography

[livesunique]

‘Flatowturm’ (Flatow Tower) at Babelsberg Park, Potsdam, Germany,

Built from 1853 to 1856 for Kaiser Wilhelm I according to designs by Johann Heinrich Strack.

Eric Reinheart Photography

[delta-breezes]

Eric Reinheart 

[wistfullycountry]

Eric Reinheart | @ericreinheart

[landscape-lunacy]

Lake District, England - by Eric Reinheart

[j-k-i-ng]

“Untitled“ by | Eric Reinheart

[jarennejo]

Eric Reinheart

Germany

[rooseelyy-blog]

The Songs of New Year’s Eve

     Nobody thought it would be, but sunshine’s back, but nothing wouldn’t really care because it creates no noise. The sound of the humming wind was more than enough to still-feel the lights of Christmas left in the shady dust of your winter coat hanging at the back of your room door.

      It was a chilly Saturday morning when I wake up through the noises created by muffler-less motorcycles on which its owners intentionally removes it to create annoyingly loud sound because of the Philippine tradition of creating kick-ups to celebrate the upcoming change of the calender’s numbers--I thought its better than firecrackers whistling and piercing your eardrums--but so I did, and I’m not one of those strangers so eager to join the fun in building extravagant noises.

      I went out of bed, heard it squish through its oldness, and my pillows wanting to splash its way into organization. I pressed click on my laptop to pop open the cool sound of Windows 8 premiering its desktop. I tapped my mouse to hear another sound of ticks of the button, and I thought I was in one of the best applications to play music, Spotify. Before that day, I was able to create a playlist readied for the sensation of ending 2016. 2016 Favorites was its title, the songs that accompanied me through good and hard times in the year, and I finally was grateful enough to play them again at the last day of the year. I heard that click of my mouse again to play open the first song.

     I was surprised when I heard that song again . . . “This is Richard Marx.” I heard the lyrics flowing into the ambiance of my eardrums as I sang along with, “Wherever you go, whatever you do . . .”

     Through the cantillate of Mr. Marx, I also listened to the great voices of these people several years older than me. Daniel Bedingfield, Haley Reinheart, Chad, Syd Matters, Rick Price, Kenny Rogers, David Gates, Joshua Kadison, Luther Vandross, Karen and Richard Carpenters, Whitney Houston, Bruno Mars, Ariel Rivera, Dingdong Avanzado, Martin Nievera, De Barge, Nina, David Pomerance, Dionne Warwick, Dixie Chicks, Owl City, Journey, Arnel Pineda, Peabo Bryson, Bryan Adams, Toto, James Ingram, Barry Manilow, Adele, Kristofferson & Rita Coolidge, Noel Cabangon, Patti Austin, Graham Russel & Russell Hitchcock’s Air Supply, Michael Bolton, Sarah Geronimo, Silent Sanctuary, Boyce Avenue, Michael Jackson, Eric Clapton, Anne Murray, South Border, Steve Perry, Brian McKnight, Restless Heart, The Fray, Florante, and Christopher Cross.

     All through the sounds of the afternoon sun, our family went to the funeral of my auntie’s mother. I mean, we’re not really that attached to her, nor I knew the person really well, we were just there to sympathize, plus it was my uncle’s birthday (the auntie’s husband) and we went around with a little bit of silent celebration.

     My dad yelled the car to drift away from home to soundness of Muntinlupa’s highway. I heard my dad once again stopped and parked to lead off the engine as we went down to hear voices of familiar people, and thought they were my relatives. 

      As I enter the viewing room, I sensed people having whispering conversations through the sad-strange afternoon wherein the sounds of few firecrackers and car engines from afar where starting to spread around the country. 

     I thought the music was over, but it was never was. I talked to my cousins just to hear my own voice and theirs. It was way cooler than I expected it to be and I have no idea if it was safe to say that even we were inside a funeral hall, I was having fun, we were drawing to slap playing cards on the table and the loudness of it pushes through the plastic stands. The laughter was the most valuable moment, we were having fun despite the bluntness around us, the those laughter was respectfully respected because I thought that dead people deserves to see smiles on the people he or she left.

    Back to the quietly loud place I’ve always thought of, my home, and I heard the clock sounded its tick-tocks as if it was telling me that it was the last hour of the year and I should be setting up myself to start the year great.

    I clamped my foot upstairs to our roof with my whispering laptop to suit the mood with the continuity of the same playlist I was playing earlier that morning. I played the song, and sang along. I heard myself talking through the mind, trying to reminisce the sounds of my year and how many ups and downs I’ve attained. I mostly found my year challenging with all the dancing music playing through the echos of my life that came so unhealthy with a lot of people taking a step back from my life, but at the same time, a lot of new ones started knocking into my threshold.

     As far as I can remember, I sensed fireworks sounding in front of me.

     All of those sounds I heard meant that 2016 had ended and 2017 was right in front of me, ready to play the next few songs I’m so eager to hear. Fireworks flying high and exploding at the sky, the noise of the motorcycles wrecking their engines, the horn of the cars that was never been so good on anybody’s eardrums, the banging of anything into a metal I heard from afar, plus the sounds I continued playing, but altogether, I thought they were all very nice. I’ve been living in the same culture every year, but it was the first time I’ve ever thought that those noise were somehow revealed to be beautiful when I heard some sensation tickling down the floor.

     Rain. 

     It was raining in the middle of New Year and its sound was always been music to my ears, and I loved every single bit of the entrance of 2017. I love the hearing, and songs and hums those raindrops were trying to deliver on my ears were all just enough to bring myself into peacefulness.

     Then I thought . . . the next song of my year had started.

[itsloriel]

Travel and Adventure Photography by Eric Reinheart

[itsloriel]

Travel and Adventure Photography by Eric Reinheart

[delta-breezes]

Eric Reinheart 

[delta-breezes]

Eric Reinheart | @ericreinheart

[delta-breezes]

Eric Reinheart | @ericreinheart

[delta-breezes]

Eric Reinheart | @ericreinheart

[delta-breezes]

Eric Reinheart | @ericreinheart