I can hear them.
I recall that when listening through obstructions, a glass can be effective. i tiptoe to the bathroom, fetch a glass of lemon water, and holding it against the chest with my head down on my knees, attempt to enhance my hearing of the summer scence in the air.
This is to be my summer best holiday, the last and the prettiest one. My bag is open on the bed, a book of love poetry and a biography of Merilyn Monroe, Billie Joel on top.
I can hear them perfectly. But no one but me.