Sounds Heard in the Country 2006

The gentle breeze moves the leaves of the wild clematis covering our trellis here on the front porch where Sister and I are enjoying twilight together.  Jill must be helping John with the hay moving otherwise she would be here, too –always demanding her share of TLC.  Sister and I are both aware of the various noises around us.  The mockingbirds are busy protecting their nest in the Tri-foliar Orange shrub over by the fence.  The shrub with its many huge thorns seems to be a safe enough place without all the fussing these vocal birds are doing.

Mockingbird

Our new guineas march by on their way to roost on top of the barn.  It seems the “potrack” noise they make is not the same as I remember from years ago.  The potrack supposedly means it’s going to rain. There has been a change – could it be me?  Sister sits erect as she listens to the barking of a dog in the distance.

Guineas

The whir of traffic on Hwy 227 is evident as busy people hurry on their way.  I find myself wondering about the occupants of the vehicles – what are their concerns, joys and/or problems?  As I grow older, I’m more and more aware that no man escapes the sorrows of life. . . “It rains on the just and the unjust.”

A passing car here on our dirt road brings me back to reality – the grayish dust boils up as the wheels turn in the loose soil of Sand Mountain.  When my son-in-law visits, his car raises no dust; of course, I could walk as fast as he drives on this old dirt road.  This man protects his car!  We have to bush off our shoes before we get in.  When we are with him at a fast-food place, we have to go in – no eating is done in his car.  Of course, he is looking ahead to trade-in time – wise man!  The cooing of a dove and the lowing of a cow on the Croley farm are a few other sounds of which Sister and I are aware.  Sister has moved closer now and her body language tells me she needs her back scratched.  After a bit I stop, but a nudging of my idle hand urges me on.

Molly, the red cow

Lost in my thoughts, the coughing of a red cow, named Molly, on the other side of the fence causes me to jump.  What treasured moments these spent at dusk.  This is country living.

Baby Coon