Recently a friend was visiting our farm. She lives in the city. While sitting on our front porch she made the comment, more to herself than me, “It is so quiet here.”
I was out walking early this morning as the day was cresting over the hills. I love my early morning walks; the time belongs to me.
This morning I was thinking about the mention of quietness while walking up our road towards our neighbor’s farm. He has a few cows milling about and acres of corn stretching towards the heavens. About half way between his farm and ours one of his cows starts bellowing. Bellowing loud. I could hear her long before I could see her.
After her crying in anger, because there was no food for her right at that minute, she got the heifers from across the street to join in her choir of protest. All their ruckus got another neighbor’s dogs farther up the road barking in excitement.
” If the cows are articulating their requirement for breakfast, we will too.” Bark. Bark.
Now my morning walk has a herd of cows mooing and a pack of dogs barking. Which was followed by the dog’s human shouting out the window, “Shaaaad-up!” Repeatedly.
Cue the taunting Crows flying over the tree tops laughing at all the chaos. The Robins were singing their pretty song to great the day but the Red Breasted Gross Beak mockingly copied their tune. The Blue Jays and the Cardinals are trying to out-do each other on who was the loudest squawker.
Moo-moo, bark-bark, trill-la-la, trill-la-loo, shaaaaad-up, squawk, squawk, squawk, mooooo.
“Yup,” I say to myself with a smile, “It’s so quiet here.”
Chris Writes 