How does colour sing?

I have written before that I experience synesthesia - a mixing of the senses. It is a brain experience, a whole experience, a something hard to define experience. Gently waking up is my favourite time of day, as I am vaguely aware of leaving a dream world which feels closer to the inside of me than these external sounds that pull my attention. In the moments before I open my eyes, I can see with sound. My internal image-screen is sanguine and bright-hot, the colour and feel of my tinnitus ring. Against this backdrop drone, soft forms and shadows born outside of time drift into the seen, and my cool water mind knows them - the dog, my love, our children.

Or late within a summer night, on the balcony, I listened to waves of crickets. Tiers of choral sound lifted from the grasses, a fountain of notes fitted within the symphonic architecture, as though the crickets were whispering to Mozart in his basket. Cricket song is the colour of night, of seeing in faint light.

Sometimes, hearing every sound is bright enough to blind me. A cacophony makes me look away, and the sound of a pure tone can pierce through my vision. When I need to listen closely, or think, I will close my eyes because the loudness of what I SEE drowns out the inner voice speaking my thoughts.