Monday, April 17, 2017

The Blare of the Peepers

Except for the snow tires that are still on my car, all signs of winter are finally gone here in Maine. This is nice since April is more than half over. The warm weather of the past two days melted the remaining snow, revealing the horror of what lay beneath: piles of fallen leaves caught by surprise during last October's snowfall. So even though it's spring, raking leaves was the weekend activity at our house. My husband did manage to stick a few peas in the ground, but mostly we played catch-up with the seasons.

No matter; I still find living in Maine to be superior to living in a normal place. Sure, the world outside has its charms, too numerous to mention and besides you know them all, but despite that, coming home after a trip is always a thrill. It's so quiet here! With few distractions you can focus on just being alive, whereas in so many other places the focus is more on staying alive.

Last night, driving home from dinner at a nearby restaurant, we pulled over alongside a neighborhood pond to listen to the otherworldly singing of the spring peepers. It was almost cacophonous. Now that's the kind of noise I like.

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