On the surface my back patio is a quiet place, but then again take a seat and have a listen and all the distinct sounds that make up that "quiet" each have their own little solo. Of course there are the calls of all different kinds of birds but then just when I think I have identified a particular tweet I'm interrupted by a gaggle of geese flying overhead--the leader of the group honking to announce their fly-by. I can hear the dull roar of the commuters down on 395 as well as car doors slamming nearby to announce the end of someone's workday. An open window nearby brings the sound of a mother singing to her child. It's a sing-songy kind of tune (is there any other kind?); one that I'm sure has the intended audience smiling. I imagine that the young one is even attempting to sing along.
A glance upwards allows me to take in the cirrus clouds moving in from the west. Even as I search the recesses of my brain to recall the type of cloud I'm watching I am easily distracted by two squirrels racing through the treetops. They tumble on a branch and then jump, each one heading in a different direction.
Finally I consider that perhaps still is a better word to describe this setting. There is not a speck of breeze in the air. I'm satisfied with that description for only a minute...until my cat, who has appeared out of nowhere and onto my lap, startles me. I suppose he's telling me it's time for dinner. With that not so subtle reminder I bid farewell to my happy little spot in my backyard. One last solo before I go--a train whistle--a sound that always brings a smile.
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