Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds,
Exhilarate the spirit, and restore
The tone of languid nature.
~William Cowper
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When I posted the Cowper poem last fall, Dee Ready suggested I write a post about rural sounds in the canyon. Since it's pretty quiet here in the fall and winter, I let the idea sit until now.
In winter, silence is accompanied by the ever present sound of the wind. The wind speaks to you here, it whistles around the window frames and makes my dogs bark.
In summer, I go to sleep to the sound of crickets and maybe the distant hoot of a train.
In the morning, I'm greeted by a rooster across the way, his cheerful sound carried across the fields by the wind.
When I posted the Cowper poem last fall, Dee Ready suggested I write a post about rural sounds in the canyon. Since it's pretty quiet here in the fall and winter, I let the idea sit until now.
In winter, silence is accompanied by the ever present sound of the wind. The wind speaks to you here, it whistles around the window frames and makes my dogs bark.
In the morning, I'm greeted by a rooster across the way, his cheerful sound carried across the fields by the wind.
A constant twitter of little birds provides background music all summer long.
The sound of the California quail, calling their young chicks, who always seem to stray, with their famous call that I hear as: Come-On-Home is the dominant sound in the canyon this time of the year.
Bird books say it sounds like:"Chi-ca-go," but I watch them call their chicks home, so I prefer my version. It's so cute to see the little ones run toward the sound, some stragglers taking their time. It's beyond me how mom and pop can keep count. There's also the sweet sound of doves cooing in the canyon.
The ravens crow and fuss and crow some more, they are always present here. I like to listen to the sound of their powerful wings as they fly above, casting shadows ahead of me.
The loveliest sound of all comes from this bird, the Western meadowlark. He sings his joy in late spring, early summer, and does indeed exhilarate my spirit.
Dogs barking is of course a common rural sound and it's no different here. Sometimes it's ours, sometimes a neighbor's.
Coyotes chatter at night and keep me awake, listening. It's one of the sounds of the wild here.
You don't often hear the coyotes howl, so I was very fortunate to hear this mother coyote calling her brood, right outside my window.
It didn't take them long to come running.
The other truly wild sound in the canyon comes from this guy, the Northern Pacific rattlesnake. Hearing the rattles, always gives me chills of respect.
Sometimes I hear a donkey bray, but I only heard a cow moo once. She was left alone in the field for an afternoon, her companions moved to the ranch, and her mournful moos could be heard throughout the neighborhood.
Sometimes a thunderstorm rolls around the mountains. Feared because lighting can cause fires and welcome if it brings rain.
And in this dry canyon, raindrops falling on our roof may well be the sweetest sound of all.
