Something really special about the sounds of Berlin are the people! People of all ages, speaking many different languages, high, low, soft, loud, fast, slow. As I walk I hear a lot of young people, and laughter. People talking to friends and strangers telling stories, ideas and sharing Berlin in real time. Today at 4pm on a rainy Wednesday in Berlin Mitte people are happy, even though it’s grey outside. Somehow in our chaos we are all together in this moment, an orchestra before tuning. There is the sound of people walking, shopping, dragging suitcases, carrying instruments, yoga mats, prams, vintage packages, briefcases, rushing, richocheting, racketing percussion over the cobbles. Around us the trains create a drone, a long deep reassuring whooshing lower brass connecting the whole city. Entering the train station, people coming, going, footsteps in fast succession, escalators, announcements, whistles… Then finally outside, the rain patters, softening. Even here in the middle of this city there is a moment to pause and to hear the raindrops on golden winter leaves, to walk in a pocket of nature. I hear two sparrows, hidden, a hint of Vivaldi‘s violins. My own footsteps padded on the wet path and the rustle of my puffer jacket as I hold up an umbrella, the rain so finely drizzling, a muted tremolo. The regal buildings of the Museum Island - Bode, Pergamon, the Berliner Dom - hold a silence of awe around them, like an epic French horn solo, golden, even when there are many tourists snapping, posing, videoing below. This is a place of serenity held inside, from the Alt Nationalgalerie the beauty of its treasures echo out as people leave with a contentment and peace they didn’t have before - I imagine Yo yo Ma playing Bach‘s Suite number one. Outside street musicians play, saxophone or guitar wafting over bridges and down the river, going over air and through water. And my favourite sound today - a piccolo in the form of a small child jumping from his pram and clapping his hands, excited to walk over a small part of the Friedrichstraße Brücke on his own, tiny voice ringing delight, heralding spring.