This morning, yes, getting up early again these days, routines, you know.
The skies are yet dark. The moon a teeny tiny sliver in the eastern sky. Bright stars surround this moon, to the west, the stars are not so bright. I would imagine that the reflection of light on the moon makes the stars gather this too. It seemed unusual to me. I want to take you here, by my side, to this early morning experience, in my part of the world.
I listen, there is silence, it is Sunday morning, most of my world here is still asleep, there is narry a sound of a car. I am listening, far off in the distance, to the west, I hear the "who who, who whooooooo" of what I have learned (I believe this was you Ann that taught me this, in a post that I made, so long ago) is probably the barn owl. Far, far off to the east, I hear the reply of a second barn owl, that beautiful and haunting sound, that carries so clearly through the air, on those clear and crisp coming-up-to-autumn air. Their calls have always caught my attention, sometimes, when they are close, like in our ravine, they scare me, their calls are so loud. But then many things scare me, especially those chilling screams of the coyotes, they chill me right through to the very depth of my soul, even when I lay in my bed and they wake me in the middle of the night.
Back to my tale. It is long before sunrise. Now I hear different sounds. It is the sound of three roosters. Two of mine and one that is a long ways off. I firstly hear Hercules, the standard Blue Cochin, his voice is deep, his call is long and drawn out, something that I love to listen to. Ivan (our Light Brahma, whom I got from Brian Bray as a hatching egg, hatched close now to one year ago) is next, his voice is not as deep as Hercules, but it is more powerful, and the call is perhaps one or two seconds longer. They both sleep in separate night houses with their gals and others. Far, far away, I can hear the sound of another rooster, it is not close, but if I can hear this dude in the night air, surely my two roosters can. They sound their morning calls, over and over and over.
Soon I will have a third rooster call, he does not yet call from his night house. That would be Jimmy, my four month old Buff Orpington cockeral and he has so recently began to crow. He scares himself half to death when he makes his first call of the morning. I watch him, and I get a real kick out of him, he brings that great smile to my face. Poor Jimmy, he has a very sickly sounding crow, he has only been crowing about 4 days. When he makes his first crow of the day when I let him out, he runs for the hills; surely he must think there is another rooster, immediately on top of him or only a millimeter from his side. One the second rooster call, he discovers it is himself, and then is happy, smiling. Back to that tale.
The roosters continue their call for about 15 minutes, and then silence, they are all pooped out, I would imagine that that much crowing must make them weary, hee, hee). Yes, where was I? Right -- my silent world, looking at the brilliance of the night stars, the thoughts of a busy day forthcoming, a day to have some fun, as I have had all summer, just enjoying life, with the chickens, the birds and the bees. Have a most wonderful day, enjoy this day, and love it as there was narry a tomorrow, along with great and beautiful health. Cindi