No silence of the lambs here, Clarice.
No silence of any kind. The too-many roosters crow all the live-long day and night. The guineas that bully the roosters mouth off between snapping bites at the butts of the chickens. The chickens scold me when I open a door without flinging offal at them. The goats maaahhhh and peer hopefully from their prison. When not barking at imaginary foes while allowing strangers to sidle to the Mansion portal uncontested, the dogs thump and whine and gallop around the porch.
The wild critters are also vocal. Most recently, the serenade of the cicadas has ruled the great outdoors. That changed last week. The amphibians, done tuning up, and are in full voice every evening.
Out back, around Poolio, the heavy night air is thick with frog calls. It sounds like one of every species is belting out his anthem. I will not walk around Poolio. The light only shows his surface. It does not penetrate the inky shadows that envelope his rotund framework. I have no aversion to our fine slimy friends. But I have no desire to step on a squishy croaker.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
Plse take snap shots of the croakers for me HBM, Mia would love to see them :)
Cazzie,
I asked my #1 son to use his fancy camera to sneak some froggy pics, but he says it won't be focused. I am trying to get him to go out at dusk, when there's still enough light to see one, and get it in focus. It may take several days of persuading.
Ah, the cicadas. Three attacked me this morning as I swept the pool surround. Swopping at me as they sang the silly cicada song. Alas they are all now deceased. They did not survive my counter-attack with the broom.
Kathy,
There's plenty more where those three came from. They're not very hardy, I've noticed. One dive-bombed my head today. Another bounced off my chest. Good thing my alter ego has four boobs.
Post a Comment