Now that September is here the air conditioner is off and the windows are wide open. At night I've been running the fan, not because it's hot but to drown out the insect's singing. When I fall asleep the crickets, locusts, grasshoppers and others joining in the evening symphony seem far off and distant. However, if I wake up during the night their sound is overwhelming. It's loud, it's close, it's intense. So much for quiet country living. A couple hours before dawn the coyotes start their own mournful calls. Lying awake I try to judge their distance from the barn, sheep in the pasture, and turkey pen. One morning, a couple of years ago, while he was walking to the catch the school bus, Garrett saw a coyote take a turkey. The bird was too heavy for the coyote to carry while being chased by a young boy. The coyote dropped the turkey, there weren't any nasty gashes or wounds, at least not visible. The turkey walked around the yard, feathers plumped up for a day or two but he didn't recover. That same week Miley was dumped in town and found wandering. A friend called and asked if we could take her. We tried finding her owner, no luck. She's such a nice dog that we decided to keep her. Since she and Maisey have been at the farm we haven't lost anymore livestock to coyotes.
Cookie and I were in the barn having a great visit. He was explaining to me the value of petrocurrency. Anyway, in walked the flock of ducks, the pleasant conversation ended. We couldn't hear anything above the noise from those ducks. Cookie pointed out that of all the animals on the farm the ducks are the only ones who make a singular sound. The cattle have a range of vocals. So do the sheep, horses, chickens and pigs. Ducks, however make only one sound. It's loud, it doesn't vary, and it's incessant. When ducks start talking you can hardly hear yourself think. A sign of the times perhaps...we finished our conversation by texting each other.
