By Lilly (listener of rooftops, lover of wooden floors)
Have you noticed how Thai houses sound? Not loud.
Not sharp.
But soft — like someone’s voice under a blanket.
It’s not just the people. It’s the space.
Wooden floorboards that creak like they’re thinking.
Windows that let the wind speak.
Open kitchens that invite the sound of rain.
Thai houses aren’t built to block noise. They’re built to breathe with it.
And so, when someone speaks —
even if just to say “กินข้าวยัง?” (Have you eaten?) —
the walls don’t trap it.
They carry it gently.
Even silence echoes. Even a sigh lands softly.
There’s something about that kind of space that makes you want to speak a little more kindly.
Or not at all.