... windows open to the night / tree frogs calling for mates ... I drift in and out of sleep ... out on the highway a truck crosses over the rumble strips
Close to the geo-pulse as always, Teresa. 'Tree frogs calling out for mates'. I spent a couple of nights sleeping under canvas in the Ontario Wilderness a few years ago. The night sounds mainly consist of mating calls. Some of them are haunting. But the mating call of the Moose is a sound that you don't ever want to hear.
There's something so good about sleeping so close to the real world ... the wilderness right outside the "door." I haven't heard the mating call of the moose but can well imagine the bellowing sound, something out of a horror flick ... or Outer Limits.
I sure like the contrasting sounds in this poem, the tiny elfin tree frogs and giant truck-rumbles. We have the same sounds here, punctuated by brief and sudden silences --sometimes with the sound of a distant train or coyote in them.
It sounds very much like here, but I'm afraid the train no longer runs by ... I grew up with that sound in the distance, though, and remember it more than fondly ... it's the sound of my childhood. The coyotes, however, come by often and sing me to sleep ...
In Penetanguishine last month we were awakened by the call of wolves and coyotes every morning. I'll never forget it. The wolvish howl. Like a war cry. Primeval.
There really is nothing like the primeval howl of the wolf ... What a wonderful thing to wake up to ... yes, even life changing ... it sounds like you had quite a trip ... thanks so much for this response.
It is the awesome simplicity of your poetry that sings to me. Judiciously choosing just the right turn of words to convey a message that seems to stay with me for the day.
Close to the geo-pulse as always, Teresa. 'Tree frogs calling out for mates'. I spent a couple of nights sleeping under canvas in the Ontario Wilderness a few years ago. The night sounds mainly consist of mating calls. Some of them are haunting. But the mating call of the Moose is a sound that you don't ever want to hear.
ReplyDeleteThere's something so good about sleeping so close to the real world ... the wilderness right outside the "door." I haven't heard the mating call of the moose but can well imagine the bellowing sound, something out of a horror flick ... or Outer Limits.
DeleteI sure like the contrasting sounds in this poem, the tiny elfin tree frogs and giant truck-rumbles. We have the same sounds here, punctuated by brief and sudden silences --sometimes with the sound of a distant train or coyote in them.
ReplyDeleteIt sounds very much like here, but I'm afraid the train no longer runs by ... I grew up with that sound in the distance, though, and remember it more than fondly ... it's the sound of my childhood. The coyotes, however, come by often and sing me to sleep ...
DeleteIn Penetanguishine last month we were awakened by the call of wolves and coyotes every morning. I'll never forget it. The wolvish howl. Like a war cry. Primeval.
DeleteThere really is nothing like the primeval howl of the wolf ... What a wonderful thing to wake up to ... yes, even life changing ... it sounds like you had quite a trip ... thanks so much for this response.
DeleteAs always...beautiful T! Love it...
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful surprise ... so good to hear from you. Thank you, Shelly.
DeleteI so much prefer the tree frogs!
ReplyDeleteI was a bit dismayed when I realized I could hear the highway from my place ...
DeleteIt is the awesome simplicity of your poetry that sings to me. Judiciously choosing just the right turn of words to convey a message that seems to stay with me for the day.
ReplyDeleteAaahhhhh, thank you so much, Bill, can't tell you how much this means to me ...
Delete