The little snap of frosty weather came tripping by a couple of weeks ago and froze the rest of my flowers that we hadn’t taken inside. We stored as many as possible in the house beforehand. My son tells me that houseplants make the air healthy; if so, we are in great shape for the winter.
During the weekend when the temperatures rose again to a comfortable level, we opened every single window in the whole house and let the fresh air flow in. The dogs checked the outside view from each window. Along with the nice breeze, quite a few sounds wafted in, too, some that I hadn’t noticed in a long time. Suddenly, the dogs were running up and down the hall barking at the train, which was whistling its merry way down the track about a mile away. It didn’t sound like a mile away. The dogs thought it was in the living room, and for a few minutes I wasn’t so sure myself. We all breathed a sigh of relief when it passed on by.
Next, I heard the wind rustling the big sycamore leaves that were still clinging to the tree out front. I went out, sat on the bench underneath the tree and listened. A pleasant sound indeed teased my ears as the wind ruffled my hair. The leaves that fell darted across the yard like playful puppies, tagging one, tripping over another, and falling down among their crinkly peers. I spent a few minutes wishing some children were here to play with them. What child turns down an opportunity to play in fallen leaves? I could probably be enticed to rake a few piles if they were here. However, they aren’t, so . . . .
We enjoyed the sounds and smells so much that we decided to leave the windows open all Saturday night, but rain interfered and fell throughout most of the night. The weather channel promised lows in the 60s. That night I lay on the bed reading when I heard a strange and eerie sound outside. First, I thought it was our dog Sally, just outside in the pine straw—her favorite sleeping spot when we made her come inside. I listened again. Maybe not. And then it came again---tu whoo, tu whoo. Was it an owl? I hadn’t heard one in years. Something about that sound has always given me goose bumps. I listened intently as the sound repeated itself again and again. Charlie lay on the bed beside me and cocked his head questioningly. I’m sure mine was cocked, too. We probably lay listening to that owl for 15 minutes before he stopped his oration. It was an amazing performance, but I was glad I hadn’t heard it while alone in the woods.
Fat chance! I’ve never been alone in the woods in my life and don’t plan to start at this late date. I’ll just listen from the safety of my bedroom.
As I lay listening to the sounds of the night, I realized that I don’t usually hear them because the closed-up house and its assorted noises are louder and closer to my ears. Everyday I hear the washer and dryer, the furnace/air conditioner, the dishwasher, the ceiling fans, the television, the icemaker, and yes, the washing machine which sounds as if it’s about to take off for parts unknown. Rarely do I hear an owl lecturing outside my window. I wonder what he had on his mind. I listened carefully, but we had a lack of communication.
Nonetheless, I plan to shut everything off and listen more often. If the weather permits, of course. Who knows what else that owl has to say?
In the meantime, let me tell you all that my family stepped up and saw to it that we had a marvelous Thanksgiving. Daughter-in-law Julie worked for two day with my son Calvin and her children as her sous-chefs. They produced loads of vegetables and casseroles. Son Josh and his wife McKensie contributed a 12-pound brisket he had smoked overnight. It way a hit. Everybody cooked and cleaned and cooked some more. The food went on forever, and everything seemed better than the last. I certainly enjoyed my role as watcher. I may let them keep it next year; we’ll see. I have twelve whole months to ponder the idea.
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