Sounds … Report from the Verandah

It’s ten-oh-five in the morning, I’m out on the porch, in the sun, reporting in. I’m hearing the chooks next door, mulling over their stuff like philosophers, uaa… uaaaahh… Not sure how to spell it. Rubber tyres swish/groan down the road, now hear a crow go like an old cynic’s laugh haa haaa haaah… And the chooks mulling, wondering… Meaning of Life … It’s a three-dots sort of morning, a bit chill, quiet and tense, washing-on-the-line, not busy but expectant. That bird sounded like a swallowing, no pun …

Yer know, it’s interesting, that the sound – like tinnitus that I hear – sounds just like insects, so I at first thought it was! Insects! – I enjoy the ambiguity there. .. ! … There are all sorts of bird calls going on now: twittering, meeows … squeaks… swaths? … and now I’m remembering the bird I heard right early this morning – I was pissing in a large pot of dead leaves and breathing in the fresh perfect-smelling air and this bird was singing two notes, two semitones apart, descending, musicians will know, whole tone – like F#/E. Then he or she shifted to including the note-in-between, the F natural. Sweet. Ah, the garbo, the garbage truck’s here now, squeak of brakes, squeak break. Funny the brakes squeak in a two-tone way too! Three dots

) turn that on its side, through 90°, like a shallow U – well that’s the bird whistle, rising inflection, ‘hey mate! Come ‘ere!’ Who, me?

Sun’s warm. … Clouds, too, big nouns, electrically held back by tight sagging wires all peace …


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