Noise, nature and a simple life

For the past week or so there has been a little tree frog somewhere on the west side of our house. Every now and then he will make that tree frog sound, and we'll wonder where he is. Both of us have kind of looked for him for the sole reason of just knowing where he is. We don't want to relocate him or hurt him but simply know where he is.

We have a picnic table on this side of the house where we'll sit and visit and share a soda or pop or tea or ice water. I was sitting there alone the other day having a cup of coffee (Marge doesn't drink coffee.) and the frog let his sound rip a couple times. It was neat. The sound of nature. But along with the sound of the tree frog was our neighbor mowing his yard. He must have one of those zero turn mowers because you could hear the motor and the mower deck rev up like they do. A plane flew by, and the sound said it was a small prop plane. Then there were sounds from the train that rolled through. Our neighbor shot a couple times. What a difference!

The sound from nature was real. The sounds which were man-made were manufactured sounds. It made me think back to when I was little, there weren't hardly any man-made sounds. We lived about 7 miles from Arthur, Nebraska, and 2 miles from a decent sized two-lane road. There wasn't much traffic on the road so road noise was almost nonexistent. Planes would fly over now and then, so there was plane noise. When Dad was running the tractor, there was tractor noise. Maybe car noise now and then. TV possibly. Radio was likely. The radio was set to an A.M. station set on 93, I think. There was no AC, so no noise there. Pretty much every day I'd take Dad's .22 and go plink at a tin can or bird.

There were natural sounds though. Darweeny (really Darwin) lived about 2 miles northwest, and on a clear night we could hear his dog barking. Many a night we'd be joined by the coyotes serenading us. Now and then an old cow or maybe a calf would bellow or bawl out. An old bull would make a different sound, so you might hear him talking to the lady cows. Might even hear a horse whinny. The birds usually went silent at night but would wake up at dawn and let her rip. The frogs down east of the house in that little wet spot would sing pretty much all night. Our dog might bark, but usually not that much. Sounds of nature.

Go back another 100 years to the mid 1800s or even earlier. Almost no man-made noise. Virtually none. One might hear a frog. Maybe hear a coyote or wolf or fox. Maybe a buffalo or elk or deer. Maybe a storm would blow through and there would be lightning and wind and maybe rain or even snow. If there were some pine trees nearby, you could hear the wind flowing through the pines. It was an awesome sound that I dearly loved as a small boy. You'd maybe hear the sound of a meadowlark or a curlew or a blackbird or nighthawk or owl or a mallard or even geese. Maybe a frog or cricket or katydid or June bug.

Back then there weren't any cars or planes or AC or horns or traffic. It was quiet. Deafeningly quiet. There are times when I'm writing something on the computer I have to shut off the TV and the noise so I can hear myself think. No problem with that back then. But then I've heard people get upset over the sound of a cricket. Could it have been too quiet?

Some of the big commercial hubs in the world today never sleep and never go quiet. Some have a decibel level that would be ear splitting, but that kind of life hasn't even been on my radar. But for some, this is their life. The hustle and bustle of the big city is what they long for and dream about. And I'm glad for them. It's just not for me. For many this is the life they have chosen.

Some today have never striven for the hustle and bustle and noise but have been satisfied with a quiet spot many would call almost heaven. Some value getting up in the morning listening to the birds or the livestock or the old rooster crowing at the sun. They value a quiet time over a slow cup of coffee and some scripture. No rush to turn on the TV, cause there isn't one. Just quiet. They will never own fancy houses and fancy cars or planes or whoppity do da clothes. They just enjoy quiet. They enjoy a comfortable pair of blue jeans, a cotton shirt and a pair of comfortable boots.

Maybe it's more than the sounds of nature, but instead a simpler way of life. Not complicated by driving hours to commute to and from work and braving way to many lanes of traffic. Instead of flying around in some fancy jet, they revel in hitching up a pair of horses and driving over to see the neighbors or down to watch the grouse or prairie chicken do their mating ritual. Maybe it's taking the side-by-side to a quiet spot in the woods and just spending time there for no real reason other than to enjoy a cup of coffee. Or being fortunate enough to get to watch a baby deer enjoy some tasty milk. Might even be a quiet evening roasting some dogs and marshmallows over a wood fire. Some company is nice, but one's bride, Dutchess, and the cats make for a fine evening.

I kind of wonder if we have looked at what life is about as having houses and cars and clothes and planes and boats and always being busy. One more of whatever turns us on. I do believe there is a yearning inside all of us to go back to a time when life was simple, without the pressure and stress. When we can actually enjoy a tree frog making music or get to watch the steers run and buck and play. Or something as simple as checking every day for the first signs of lettuce and radishes.