Who amongst us hasn’t been accused of selective
hearing. Who me? Well, at least once…. or twice. Or maybe you immediately think of someone you
know who has selective hearing. Children
are masters.
It occurred to me the other day that I, thank heavens, have
a good dose of selective hearing.
‘Listen’ to the next two paragraphs as you read them.
Damp, foggy morning.
A hazy orb bright in the sky tells me the sun already rides high. Across the pond a crow yells out, “Caw!”
Farther off another responds, “Caw, Caw!”
Mallards fill the air with a sweet mellow mumble. A lone goose flies in low from the
south. “Honk” … “Honk.” Its call is loud, lost, and lonely. Most geese are paired now. Where is its mate? The goose hits the water with a loud splash
and he/she quiets. A small flock of
Brewer’s blackbirds feed nearby. Their
occasional call notes say all is well. Suddenly
I hear loud “Whop, Whop” – one of several geese at the far end of the pond is
taking a bath. I don’t need to see the
goose to know it’s a goose. A duck
sounds more like an electric eggbeater on overdrive and sends water flying in
all directions.
Morning stillness easily carries the hum of cars rushing on the
busy street beyond the pond – never ending.
Nearby someone’s car beeps out a dozen beeps; hard wheels whir on the
smooth cement of the nearby skateboard rink.
Happy voices of children. It is
Saturday and they get to play. Coughing comes
from an old gentleman sitting on a bench near me. His large black plastic bag says much.
Both paragraphs are from notes I took yesterday while
standing at the edge of the neighborhood pond near my house. The pond is a favorite where we grab an hour
or two outdoors and Oregon is dishing out good weather in small doses. One side of this pond is beaten nearly
bare. Pigeons, ducks, and geese gobble
bagfulls of bread scraps and French fries; the long parking lot has a mix
people watching in their cars and empty cars left by joggers, walkers, duck
feeders.
Fortunately for us, half the pond has a much wilder edge –
marshy grasses and a grove of trees.
Only rarely does a human venture over there. In addition there is second pond just barely connected
to this one. An asphalt path circles half of this second pond, but not too
close. Walkers and bicyclists are
usually ignored by the pond’s wildlife.
This rather civilized pond is one of the best places for me
to sketch and we get a variety of wildlife photos there. When I first step out of the car I tend to be
aware of many human sounds, but soon a goose catches my attention, or I realize
the coot are squabbling, or alarm calls tell me the otter had come out into the
pond. He kills an occasional duck along
with fish and whatever else he munches on – crayfish?
I have to admit the ambiance here is never as pure as being
out in the wild, but it still is a good dose of nature. I come home remembering: the iridescence of
the mallard drakes' heads, the togetherness of a mated pair of
Canada geese, a sleeping goose, turtles spooked by the arrival of the otter. If I’m
lucky I will have watched a cormorant gulp down a fish or the green heron
easing its way along the far shoreline.
.... and dusk at the pond always makes my heart sing.
