Yesterday the strangest thing happened. The time was about 4:30 P.M. I was working outside near the bee pen weeding out a huge patch of chamomile that had self-seeded. It was like a lawn so thickly did it germinate. It actually would make a beautiful walkway if one wanted to make one of chamomile. The chickens, ducks and geese had been let out and were wandering all over the place. There is a movable chicken wire fence so that they cannot come into our part of the back. They love to go out there and eat bugs, slugs, grubs, worms, anything that they can eat, oh ya, weeds too. LOLL.
Suddenly Roquefort, the big white rooster started to make this huge call. It is like the call that he makes when he responds to a chicken that is proclaiming that she just laid an egg. He displays his pride to his world that an egg has been laid, just as loudly as does the hen herself.
This call was loud, he began to strut all over the place, looking around, calling and calling. The chickens all became silent. Not a sound.
Now this is strange because all I could hear was nothing. It is surprising when you spend so much time outside working, listening, how you can understand how much sound there actually is. This started to weird me out. There was no sound, not a single one. It was eerie, and I cannot stress how weird it sounds to hear NOTHING. Not a bird in the trees, not a chicken, not a duck. All the kids were inside the house watching a movie. Zero sound. Except Roquefort making his big rooster call, and man is it loud. Especially when there is no other sound. It reminds me of the old saying â€œthe calm before the stormâ€.
Then Roquefort became silent. He strutted all over the back, looking, guarding. And believe me, he sees everything, talk about eyes like a hawk. But that is another story I will get into another time.
This noiselessness carried on for about 15 minutes, no less. I continued working, being very aware of anything that I might hear also that could be danger. As much as Roquefort watched, walking around, I pulled weeds, listening, watching. We do live on a bear path, this is the time of year when they become active. The likelihood now of the bear coming onto our property at the back is remote. There has been so much clearing of the underbrush, but I never lay caution to that wind. The hens did not stop their sun bathing and fluffing in the dusty holes that they had dug, nor did they stop scratching the weed pile I had made for them. Life for the chickens and ducks carried on like nothing had happened. EXCEPT FOR THE SILENCE.
My sister came out of her house and was wondering where the geese were. We looked out towards the back and there they were, sunbathing in the sun. I told her to listen, "what do you hear". She listened. She said nothing. I said, well, how often around here do you hear nothing. She thought and listened for a minute. She said that is the wierdest thing because â€œnothingâ€ sounds very foreign. When you have farm birds, there is always noise, always, rarely do you hear nothing. I told her what had happened, how the rooster made his big call and the whole barnyard shut right up. I guess â€œnothingâ€ could be described as a noise in itself.
Now Roquefort began his silence. He did not make a sound. Suddenly there was a high pitched noise, the sound is undescribable, kind of like a whistle maybe. I was watching the rooster, it was coming from him. This sound he emited lasted for about 12 seconds or so. I knew it was him because I could see his mouth open. I have heard him make this sound on one other occasion, when he was alarmed. He emitted this sound 4 or 5 times at intervals of about 2 minutes apart. Maybe the sound could be described as an elongated call that I hear the hawks make.
The chickens carried on doing what they do, without noise.
Finally, I got up and threw another big bucket of weeds out for the chickens. I guess whatever had been the problem was gone. For now Roquefort came over to the pile and made his rooster sound that there was food and he showed the girls that there was good stuff in it. All the noises of the chickenyard commenced again. That happy hum of the girls enjoying their lovely little life in the warm warm sun.
I do not know what was around for such a long time that caused such a guarding action of our big white rooster. But he was doing his job, and he was in command of the entire yard of chickens, ducks and geese. He is the born leader and I am proud of him.
Have a wonderful, beautiful day, lots of good health. Cindi