Sounds of the Country
If you have been following this blog you know that I am writing about My Field Trip through life and at this point I am starting over – again and doing so in the country. I’m a city/rural girl and experiencing the differences of being in farm country where the wind blows and the cows moo has had moments of challenge.
At least spring seems to have finally arrived and with it the nights are becoming warmer. I’ve left my window cracked a small fraction to enjoy the night air, which has brought to my attention the sounds of the country.
I’ve slept through city noises of cars, big wheeled trucks, ambulances and even the nightly train whistle, but I was quickly awakened by the sound of a nearby donkey hawing. I lay in bed as the breeze brought me the soft mooing of cows and was startled awake by a rude, noisy rooster. All of that seems fairly normal until I discovered the sound of the owl. I’ve tried to pinpoint where it might reside but I can not locate the bird, probably it’s hiding in a barn. It does not sound like the adorable ‘who’ call of commercials. It’s more like a screeching bird of fire zooming through the air in search of prey. They don’t fly through screens, do they? I think I’m safe in my attic room listening to the night sounds.
With this nice weather, I am venturing outside more and more each day. I’m itching to plant something and hope to have the garden tilled soon. Right now I’m just enjoying the sunshine and warmer weather sitting at the picnic table. That’s when I noticed that the sounds in the country, even during the day, are different. Maybe different is not the right word; maybe just unusual because they carry so far.
There’s a neighbor whose building his house about a mile and a half away. I’ve enjoyed watching the construction of that house all winter long. Each time I’ve driven by he’s working hard either getting the roof on before the first snow or insulating against the wind. Now that I’m sitting outside I can hear his busy hammer as he nails on the siding.
As the sun sets, the winds die down and the sounds fade to an evening hush. There’s a dog barking in the distance, and I am aware of how quiet it is in the country. It becomes still as the day settles and the animals rest. Neighbors gather at the dinner table and window lights spot the distance; warm lights glowing from inside comfortable houses. I look forward to the weather warming even more and the sounds of folks sitting on their porches after dinner.
In the city there were some who sat on their porches in the evening. Usually country folk who had moved in still practiced the art of porch sitting but not those who have spent a lot of time in the city. They go inside for the evening, busy with their TV programs, Internet surfing and family noises of children unwinding from their day. The porch sitters move slower, are not interested in what’s on TV – it’ll be there tomorrow too. They gather in the soft moonlight and talk about their day. Soft muffled voices carrying to the next porch as they share a joke or tell a story. There’s a different attitude in the country, an unconcerned need to know the time. It’s not about being 9 p.m.; it’s about being time for the family. The chores are done and the evening is here, rejoice with a good dinner (always biscuits!) and a stretch out on the porch to enjoy the stars.
There are so many things for me to learn and enjoy in this new adventure of mine. Driving to town for supplies, I’ve enjoyed the fields greening with winter wheat and watched as farmers burn sections off for new planting. Within the next few weeks the trees will be leafing out from those buds I see, and animal babies will appear more frequently in the pastures.
Summer will be here sooner than you know, and I’ll have all sorts of new experiences to share. I wonder what the bugs are like in the country.
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