The season of noise

 

Many folks know I can be fascinated by noises. Anything from how the level of sound seems to change over the course of a day to the things outside that defy discovery. Now spring has made a definitive turn into warmer weather around here, which leads to an overwhelming arrival of random distractions.

Why the spring?

Well, I suppose the big thing is that I’m sliding outside a bit more. Also opening the windows around the house. I’m encountering things that either escape my notice or simply don’t happen when the world is bundled up on a frigid late January day.

Couple across the street have an adorable little girl. About four years old. And she appears to me to be every bit of exhausting, inquisitive and cute that you would hope for and expect. A few months ago, I didn’t hear a thing when she joined her mother on a walk to the mailbox. Now, her laughter cascades into my house whenever something catches her attention.

Earlier today, a truck managed to stump me.

We get trucks down our road all the time. In fact, nearby, a dirt road breaks off of it and down behind many of the houses. There are a couple of golf courses built up not too far away. Not short walking distance not too far, but regardless of which combination of turns you make to leave the house you will end up passing a few holes of one or two of them. The dirt road is slightly lengthy, but it leads to a place that has easy access to all of the golf courses. One ownership group, so they use the area to store sand and other materials for the courses.

It isn’t that uncommon to have a truck on that road any time of year. But in the spring, as the courses are being set up and prepared and opened, there can be a parade on some days. Plus, every afternoon during the school year, a bus uses the edge of the road as a place to turn around.

But today, as I looked out the window expecting to see a truck moving along the road, I saw nothing. Heard the noise though.

And it’s strange because you do get used to the different vehicles that come into the neighborhood. I know when the mail arrives. I recognize the deliveries arriving at my house and those nearby, and have reached a point when I know what company it is bringing the packages based on the timing of their routes.

Helicopter flew overhead today. Wonder if it was for a lesson. There’s a small airport nearby where people can go to learn how to pilot planes and helicopters. There are also at least two businesses that have helipads, and if you watch the flight direction you can usually figure out where they’re headed (and even who might be onboard).

Last night I slept with the windows open. Woke up at one point, a soft sound of leaves and branches being gently disturbed echoed across the yard. Looking outside, dimly lit, in the distance I could make out the shapes of three deer leaving my yard and entering the brush.

Outdoors. A magical place, especially at certain times of the year. Whether it’s the deer crossing a field or a group of kids yelling “car” and taking their toys to the edge of the road until it passes. Magical.

I may not find what I’m expecting to see from time to time. Doesn’t matter, because more often than not there is a little reward.

 

If you have any comments or questions, please e-mail me at Bob@inmybackpack.com