It’s been said that if you don’t like the hustle and noise of the city move to the country. Filled with bucolic fields of gently undulating crops of wheat ripening in the sunshine it’s quiet.
Wide open spaces, quiet nights, sunny days.
At least that’s what we heard when we moved here.
Sound carries in the country. It echoes over fields, hits the mountains, and sweeps down valleys.
Just like the wind.
It’s anything but quiet out here…at times it’s downright noisy, loud, and raucous.
And that’s just the residential wildlife.
Spring mornings bring loud before dawn chirps trills, and screeches from the masses of birds that live here. Sounding remarkably like a big city orchestra warming up before a concert. The unharmonious notes, warblings, and cackling giving the impression that everyone is playing a different musical score.
Lead, by an out of tune conductor
A family of crows has taken up semi-permanent residence in our front yard and leads the orchestra. They’ve started a noise making competition among themselves, the ravens, and eagles. All participants perch on the tips of the tall fir trees in our yard.
The winner is the loudest squawker.
Usually, it’s the crows.
In the middle of the night, the guy up the road comes home with his logging truck. The sound of chains eerily clanking and rattling carrying for miles in the stillness. Wake up to that after a bad dream, and you’ll wonder if the ghost of Christmas past is living in your closet.
Sparks a flying
Early morning snowplows barrel down our rough country roads throwing sparks into the air and screeching metal against the pavement.
We’ve been woken by the tapping of deer hooves parading down the middle of the road on their way to raid our compost bin.
Our sleep is disturbed by coyotes who gather and howl at the moon. Scattering amid the dark roar of the farmer’s shotgun as it blasts into the dark. Leaving us to ponder if it’s the farmer making his rounds or the local gun club.
Long streams of trains snake their way through the town in the valley below, whistling at 2 am.
Cows bellow down the road, lamenting their newly weaned calves. They are louder than the braying of the neighbourhood donkey happily doing its job, standing watch over the sheep in the field.
On a sultry still summer’s night, we can faintly hear the Square dance callers at the fairgrounds down in the little town far below us.
While the country isn’t quiet, I’ll take it over the sound of a garbage truck rattling steel bins at early o:clock in the morning.
Or the constant rush of vehicles past our windows, neighbors televisions blaring into the dark.
Now if you will excuse me, I’ve got to shut some windows there seems to be a commotion outside among the pheasants.
Jen @ The Light Laughed
Come and visit for the summer
How’s your summer been so far? Have you been enjoying it?
It’s nice to have a bit of a break from blogging but if you’re looking for more of The Light Laughed and you’d like to see what my world looks like here in the Okanagan ….
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