Monday morning everybody in the district complained about lack of sleep, yours truly included. We had our first thunder storm of the year, and it was a doozy. Usually thunderstorms last a few minutes, an hour at the most. This one started at 3:00 am and was still going strong when I finally crawled out of bed, somewhat sleep deprived at 6:00. Several good crashes, must have murdered trees in the close vicinity.
Monday night was nice and warm and muggy, so the missus opened the bedroom window to let some of the stale winter air out, and fresh spring air in. At 2:30 the ruckus began. It was a howling chorus of coyotes. We are surrounded by lovely bush and open fields to the west, and mature forest to the east -- ideal conditions for all manner of wildlife, especially coyotes, who often sing to each other on either side of us. This pack must have been just across the road in the field, judging by the decibel level. I had always heard, that their yipping and tie yiing (my best attempt at onomatopoeia) occurred when they were hot in pursuit of game, or teaching the young ones to hunt. I said this on Tuesday morning to a colleague and she informed me that I was wrong (imagine that!) and said it was when one of the pack has strayed and they were calling it back. Could well be, not being particularly lupus savvy, I cannot argue. I gather if it is true though, the lost must have been found, judging by the one final bloodcurdling howl that erupted from the leader of the pack. And then about an hour later, the same din arose. At that point, I clambered out of bed and headed for the couch, where life is usually quieter (more walls separate me from the natural world).
This morning, I was awakened to the sound of muffled artillery, off in the distance -the staccato reverberations of machine gun fire. Fortunately war has not been declared on our fair city. There is just one amorous male ruffed grouse drumming out his passion for a lady friend. I haven't heard this sound for many years, so it was not an unpleasant noise, by any means. Ruffed grouse are a scarce commodity in our neighbourhood, so I really hope he is successful in his quest for a lady-love, and wish them a large and prosperous brood within a few short weeks.
And that is about all I have to say for today.
Musings and meanderings from the Musical Gardener.