Gotta had it to Norfolk and Southern: The days come and go and with them the mix of life stuff good, bad and boring. The train dont care. Its call can be as mournful as a screech owl when Im really raw, but mostly the sound of it triadic horn is home to me. Quick question: Screech owls sound sad. Its the barn owl sounds like a murder in a dark alley. I am recommended they be switched. This will take a long time, because all scientific associations are entrenched in their naming of things and its very hard, even when they all agree, to change a thing. Bird calls, such as they are written phonetically, baffle me more than key guides to wild plants. Okay, Im all right with crows going caw caw caw but some are clearly in the mind of the beholder only. Field recordings greatly reduce the need for some dingbat to come up with the mneomic device for Red Eyed Vireo: look-up, over-here, see-me, up-here -- Im sorry, but thats a personal interpretation. The cool thing about birds is within the sounds we perceive are incredible oscillations of pitch beyond our sensibility. Still, I say the Screech owl should be swapped out with the barn owl. I find the sound of loons mysterious and enchanting, but other considered the call to be eerie. Loons. Havent seen one in a while. Well, the train has wended its way along inlet valley towards Pennsyltucky and all I hear is the whine of traffic on Route 13 balling up or down the hill. My place is perched about a half mile from there, but it sounds like the Van Wyck Expressway some mornings, a disconcerting thing when all I can see out my windows are a bunch of trees. Now a cat named Janou is missing, right on this very road, N. Sunset Dr. Time to form a posse to look for the missing puss. Surely it wants to get back home to its kibble dish, so its got to be stuck somewhere. I saw the local fox tonight, but foxes got plenty to eat without hassling cats and I havent heard any coydogs, so they are either very stealthy or somewhere else altogether. Theres a lot of woods in Bufferin Haights and I doubt all the wildlife here has been thoroughly catalogued. I tried to shift the ecological balance by having Fred Rolf haul a piano in here and I swear if he doesnt invite me to his upcoming piano burning, there will be hell to pay. About the only way to get the metal out of pianos is to burn them and I greatly desire to see, record and hear, the sound of that kinda concert! Its late, but Im gonna call him now for a reservation. Dont expect me to describe it in words. There are no phonics for piano strings popping at Fahrenheit 451, I gots to hear it! – tinytowntimes, Oct. 3, 2014
Posted on: Sat, 04 Oct 2014 02:56:03 +0000
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