SOUNDS
The soft feather-muffled talking of the chickens
Sharing their private opinions among themselves
The almost silent sound of Mother’s smile
The sound the cold hard branches of winter trees make in the wind
The sound of a classroom full of pencils
Desperately translating thoughts onto notebook paper
The vigorous sound of percolating coffee making on the stove
The sound of waking up in a tent among nature’s stillness
All of the sounds that are not readily noticeable
Except to those who listen
R. Speers
(Feb.11, 2024)
Rita shared her wonderful poem with me about a year ago. I’ve had it going round in my head since I read it the first time and I’ve tried to pay better attention to the sounds around me.
The wind has certainly been blowing the cold hard branches of the trees around my house this winter and I hear the percolator every morning of the world as Matt makes his coffee.
I’m blessed to hear the pitter patter of two sets of the sweetest little feet you ever saw running up and down the hallway.
Tonight I hear the sound of guitars and a fiddle playing tunes in the kitchen with laughter and talking mixed in here and there.
If I go downstairs I can hear the hiss of the water on the woodstove and the movement of logs falling as they burn.
I’m blessed to live in an area where the sounds of nature are ever present be it birds, insects, or animals.
I’m glad Rita wrote her poem and shared it with me. I plan to keep listening to the sounds around me.
Last night’s video: We Cooked Supper…But Didn’t Eat Together.
Tipper
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Miss Tipper, Such a pleasant poem. And the thoughts you gave in response to it were so sweet and help me to pause, think and enjoy all we have around us and who is there too. Saying also, A sound I wish I could hear today is my momma’s voice singing as she work around the house. So lovely to me. Something I dearly miss, Hopefully she’s singing for our Lord now. She’s been gone since March 2nd 2016, 10 years now. It was also my 69th birthday that day. I guess that is why I’m missing her so much this March. I know it’s been hard for y’all with loss of your dear momma and Granny. I know you are missing her so much. Time will ease your grief, you will always miss her, but maybe, prayerfully, hopefully without so much pain. Love to you all and prayers for all in need of God’s blessings and healings. God bless y’all today tomorrow and always. South Mississippi Jennifer
I’m behind reading your blogs! I listen to the sounds around here all the time, the owls hooting in the woods in the evening and night, the birds singing, the wind blowing through the trees, its so peaceful here and we love it!
What a beautiful poem. I love to open the windows early in the morning to hear all the birds start their day.
We live across the road from a pallet factory and an Amish saw mill, so I often hear big trucks picking up and dropping off at these places. Living in what is starting to become a booming Amish community, I almost daily hear the clip-clop of horse feet.
So so beautiful!!! Praying for little B & all !!!
So so beautiful!!! Praying for little B & all !!!
This poem was just beautiful. Thank you for sharing it. On warm early mornings, I love to sit on the porch with my coffee and Bible, reading and listening. A neighbor through the woods has a rooster and a duck. First you hear the rooster crow and then the duck answers with its own sweet quacking sound. They will do it more than once…it’s so funny…like they are having a ‘good morning’ competition. I also love the sound of children playing outside…laughing and talking and having fun. My hubby worked afternoon shift for many years. I always looked forward to the sound of his key in the basement door. It would wake me up immediately. Then I would say a little prayer to thank God he had another safe work day and trip home. He would always come in the basement way so he could leave his dirty work clothes down by the washing machine. I am thankful that we are both home to go to sleep together now…and I don’t have to listen for the sound of the key in the door anymore.
Rita, sorry to be late at this time of day…..YOU my dear have the art of words!! Thank you for sharing with Tipper and Tipper thanks for sharing with us!!
The sounds of life. Staying quiet is such a pleasant reminder from God…listen my child, close your eyes and listen:-)
Prayers for little B… always!! Hugs and kisses to that little B…
Rita’s poem is really good! She has deep insight and thoughts. I’m blessed to live where I can hear the sounds of nature around me.
A beautiful poem. Thanks for sharing it with us and for the reminder that we need to turn off the radios, TV’s, phones, etc and just listen to the sounds around us.
Do you know it is a proven scientific fact that you can’t hear as well when your mouth is running?
Thank you so much for sharing Rita’s lovely poem with us. I am lucky enough to have the opportunity to frequently spend time in the Northwoods of Wisconsin, and I sure do enjoy natures sounds. During a heavy snow it is so quiet all I hear is my own heart beating and the sound of my breath. Summer also offers all kinds of sounds, even the sounds of the boats going across the lakes is relaxing in some respects as long as the “captain” is being careful with his driving!
I loved this. Thanks for sharing.
God’s Symphony is what I call all these amazing sounds, as I stand on my porch in the country and hear His creatures and the unique sounds He assigned to each of them.
I LOVE that! Going to use it sometime.
I live in the country too on the old homeplace the family named the Holler. I’m at the end of the rd. Growing up we didn’t have neighbors back in here but now there’s 2 houses in front and one behind me in what was our orchard.
I have always loved everything about this ole farm and country life. the smell of fresh plowed ground , and fresh cut hay. Fresh picked apples from the orchard and the wonderful smell of the apple trees in bloom.
My grt gdpa worked the farm with 2 mules Susie and Sally. they worked so quitely and smoothly together but some jobs only toke one so the other was put in the barn. the one inside would nae something awlful until the other came back to the barn .
In the late 60s I think it was my grt uncle bought a 50 something 8N tractor and not long after that they sold the mules because there was nothing for them to do.
I was heart broken ! they were family ,they had worked for years here now they were being sold. I was probably 7 or 8 years old . I didn’t understand that gdpa didn’t believe in keeping animals that didn’t play a roll in keeping the farm going.
my grt gdma always had buutercups and I loved the smell of those pretty lil sunny flowers. I still have them today. So many wonderful things to remember from back then, the sounds and smells ,laugther and love.
Since today is about sound. I am going to repeat this. I had a very good coon hunter friend that had mine and the adjoining landowners permission to hunt the creek between our property. He no longer hunts here. The last time he hunted here, one of our “newbie neighbors” called the law and complained about the noise his dogs made when running the coon. A deputy came out and was waiting on him when he got back to his truck. He said the deputy apologized and told him I had to come out and have been listening to your dogs. They sure sounded good, especially the one singing bass, there are no laws about the noise coon hounds or beagles make when hunting in the country. To a country boy, the sound of running hound dogs is music to our ears. My son recently told me about our neighbor telling one of our newbie community Facebook neighbors after she had complained about dogs sometimes barking, she now lived in the country and dogs were going to bark especially when seeing deer or other things, no one had ask her to move down here and if she didn’t like it to go back to where she came from. I would say that was pretty plain, easy to understand and echoed my sentiments real well.
What a beautiful poem, Rita. I grew up a country girl and now having lived in town for over twenty years, I can’t tell you how much I miss it. There are just too many sounds to mention. Here in town, we do enjoy sitting on the back porch listening to wind blowing in the trees, birds chirping and if it’s raining softly, that’s a glorious sound. We also hear the sound of a train and sometimes that sounds so lonesome. My cousin told me one time he wished he could have about fifty acres and put a house right in the middle of it. We would love to go back to the country but it’s not the same around here. There are subdivisions, one right after the other. The area where I grew up looks nothing like it once did. I’m sure that is true for a lot of areas now. Thank you sharing this post, Tipper.
❤️ lovely post!! ❤️
Good Morning! also the sound of silence.. when the wind stops blowing during the night and the silence wakes you up!! that’s happened a couple of times during all of these storms we have had here in Midwest Ohio. also happens during snow storms and traffic stops .
I love Rita’s poem! It’s so true- you need to take time to listen to small every day sounds. Poem writing was a challenge Rita, my oldest sister and I made to each other a couple of years ago. Rita’s were the best I’ll have to say. This is my first time to visit your blog and I will start following it for sure! I watch Celebrating Appalacia and really enjoy it. I especially enjoy listening to you and Matt talk while eating your popsicles. Living in a small community away from city life is a real blessing! I’m the (digital) scrap booker in the family and this will go into my yearly book today!
No matter how you spend it, a day in the woods is never a waste of time.
The blessings of the things we would hear if we would but stop long enough to really listen, but sadly, in today’s world there is little time to do that unless we make it a happening. I miss many sounds of days gone by – the gurgling and cooing of my sweet babies, their voices of excitement and laughter as they’d come in from play or school – my husband’s voice, and of listening to his quiet breathing as he lay beside me at night, and yes, I often even miss his snoring! Including the little owl, I would often hear about 3 a.m. out in our back garden area before construction moved in. As a line in a song says – ‘these are a few of my favorite things’ = just a few sounds I remember and miss. I loved the poem Rita shared with you Tipper – thank you for sharing it with us. May we all have ears to hear as we walk through our day today. We might just be surprised at all we have been missing.
Morning everyone. Tipper, like usual you get me thinking about things. I got up at 5:30 to make my son coffee before he goes to work. I started thinking about my favorite sound. We left Canada when I was 3 yrs. old, so no memory of that. I grew up by the California beach. I’m not a beach person so I don’t think about it. But when I was little, I would wake up when it was still dark to hear the Nightingale. I’m not a bird person, but I loved the sound. There is an owl that lives on that street, never heard it’s voice, but my older son and me stopped not knowing what the loud sound above us was. The sound was flapping wings as it flew by. It did try to get my 23 pound cat. George did survive, with a slight limp. I stopped hearing the Nightingale. Too many tourists scared them away. Many years later we fled to the mountains. The sounds there are incredible. Dogs hysterically barking because they see a mountain lion in the trees, outside your house. Blue Jays dive bombing my house for food. Coyotes twice a night running past with their heavy breathing. Nope, not those sounds. It was the sound of a large bird, not a fast sound. Long and slow and far away. Now I know it was the Eagles in Big Bear. I guess my favorite sound isn’t the familiar sounds. It’s the sounds you have to catch if your lucky. The rare eagle. The lone Nightingales. Now it’s the Blue Jay or Mockingbird when it’s still dark. I still will say birds are not my favorite animal. Nor is the Bobcat I heard. The growl my son heard one night. YIKES. Anna from Arkansas.
Rita, What a beautiful poem and thank you Tipper for posting it! I’m blessed to live in the county, down a quiet road where there isn’t a lot of traffic. In the spring when the frost is out of the ground, I can hardly wait until I hear the frogs singing and croaking. When the snow is gone, hopefully by April, I look forward to my first cup of coffee outside and listen to the birds singing. I love to hear my husband playing his accordion and harmonica. I love the sound of a soft rain and a gentle breeze. So many sounds to be grateful for. Just a few sounds I’m thankful for. Thank you Tipper for reminding us to just stop and listen. Have a wonderful day!
Thank you Linda. I just heard the little spring frogs peeping last Saturday for the first time this year!❤️
Rita,
DITTO to all the nice compliments! Beautiful poem!
Thank you Sanford!
Tipper,
It was so much fun to see that you had used my poem on your blog. I had to call my sisters to brag about being published, since my writing came about as a challenge we gave each other to write “poetry” that year.
The best part though, was reading your comments and those of your other readers. You have gathered such a “rich” community around you. It’s a pleasure to read everything that everyone writes. We are constantly reminding each other of what a blessing it has been to be raised in a country such as this, and especially to have our roots deep in Appalachia.
Thank you for creating such a platform as the Blind Pig and the Acorn.
Congratulations on being published, Rita! You have enriched all of our lives today. 🙂
Thank you for the poem, Rita!
Mr. R. Frost would be jealous.
Thank you.
They say smell is the strongest human sense, but for me, sound is the one that triggers memories, especially in music. It’s easy to remember where I was and what I was doing when I first heard some of the oldies rock and roll songs. Some of my friends say they couldn’t live where
I do because the quiet is so lonesome. I’ll take the sound of birds and insects over airplanes and sirens any day of the week.
Great prayer to start the morning, thank you!
Blessed. God is so good to give us hearing. Another sound is a heartbeat.
A beautiful reflection. In the past week I have thought of that beautiful sound of the percolator and my husband and I have discussed the pitter patter of our children’s feet running to greet us. Priceless sounds.
Tipper, yesterday I made Snow Cream for my girls for the first time, referencing directions from a blog post of yours. Thank you. They loved it. 🙂
At one house we had I built a ‘bird hotel’. My wife asked, “Will birds build nests in all of those that close together?” I told her I built that near the garden so they could rest safely at night and see bugs for breakfast when they awaken. I heard them but never gave it much thought until we had guests overnight. My wife asked if they slept well and her brother said, “Yes, until the neighbors began their morning squabbling.” We didn’t have any close neighbors. The birds singing awakened him and he wasn’t accustomed to that kind of noise.
I liked Rita’s poem and yours too. I like what Janet commented and living near a big city I understand what Randy is saying too. In January my brother and I visited our mother’s old home place, it’s still way out in the country. Our uncle- Mama’s oldest brother, the last of her siblings, was laid to rest on that farm, alongside his wife and their oldest son. Our three other cousins have made their homes there on that old farm too next to the old broken down home place and my uncle and aunts now empty home. At dusk when we were leaving, except for an occasional passing car on that Monday evening, there was not one sound. It was the most peaceful quiet I have ever heard, with the sun going down behind all of the trees, and it was beautiful. I was envious of it.
I really liked the poem you shared. I really enjoyed hearing of the wonderful sounds you hear too! Yesterday I got 8 Wyandotte baby chicks. Every body was looking good and making it fine last time I checked! I’m proud to announce I’m the first chicken woman in the whole family!!!! It’s my greatest accomplishment thus far and I’m getting down to the basic important stuff in life!!! “To hell” with the city cause it’s just gritty and plumb nasty!!! I love the country! You rock your place the way you want and feel free to junk it up and I’m gonna rock my place over here the way I want! It ain’t NUNYA business or concern! Throw a hand up and get on with it- except an occasional “neighbor gather round” where a few congregate to discuss an issue. I kid you not the local Dollar General has chairs outside the door for socialization and rest. In the summertime, you oughta see the folks just talking and sitting… I LOVE THE COUNTRY LIFE… city slickers can have the concrete jungle. Looking ain’t crowded and neither are observations…
Rita wrote a beautiful poem. I so enjoy sitting out on my back porch drinking my morning coffee and listening to all the sounds around me. Thankful every day that God has allowed me to still hear. I think sometimes those who can hear take hearing for granted, when we all should be so thankful we can. Then I know others never have heard a sound in their life but they can feel and sense things us hearing can’t. God blessed them with extraordinary perception beyond our understanding.
Randy, you described it perfectly when you said “pure torture”. I grew up in the country and only 11 of my 68 years were spent in town. My street was quiet and my neighbors were great but as soon as the opportunity presented itself I was back to the country and that’s where I’ve been for the past 33 years and hopefully will remain here as long as I’m on this big blue marble!
That is a beautiful poem and a wonderful reminder for us all. Randy, this old gal feels like you. I’ve lived close beside others that could be heard through the walls but am thankful for my space now. The wind whistling, the rustle of the leaves, rain dripping onto and off the metal roof, the doves and the pair of broad-shoulder hawks nesting nearby and the little wren who announces when it steals cat food from the porch are all sweet music to my world. I don’t need the noise of a tv nor radio to keep me company. I just need to simply stop and listen to what’s here.
A day in the woods no matter how you spend it is never wasted time.
I enjoy the sounds of silence. Sometimes the world is just too busy & noisy for me, so the sound of silence calms my soul. Have a wonderful day today!
What a lovely poem.
I, too, love the sounds of things and even the sound of quietness. The porch swing in the summer is one of my favorite places to just sit and listen. Beautiful poem
I have a prayer request. My cousin’s 10 year old granddaughter has just found out she has a tumor on her brain stem and the prognosis looks grim. Would y’all help me and others to pray for a miracle. I told her Mamaw I know a woman named Tipper who knows people around the world who could ask for prayer. Her name is Blakely and they call her ‘B’. I greatly appreciate our village here and know y’all will pray with us for ‘B’. Thank you so much!
I’m so sorry to hear that! I will pray for little B! And for her family too.
Debbie, please know that my thoughts and prayers will be with you, your cousin, little “B” and all her family for a complete recovery from this devastating diagnosis.
There is such power in numbers, and I hope many folks from around the globe will be praying for a miracle for Blakely. Please keep us updated.
Love & Blessings, A friend from Maine, J.
Debbie- I will pray for a miracle. All things are possible with prayer.
We are so very blessed to know and have lived in the country and to have family that loves us.
Good morning Tipper and Acorns. I enjoyed yesterday’s video. TY, Tipper for sharing the poem with us. I know I have mentioned it before but for me no sound on Earth has rivaled the instant of the Crack of Dawn on a windless morning with an unclouded sky. I first caught it, unexpectedly, in June of 1995 when we had moved to Dugger Holler after my divorce the previous Fall. I had just finished building the front porch for trailer the day before and I wanted a quiet coffee out there to greet the day. I never expected the Day to greet me first. That sound and gentle shock wave as the Sun tenderly kisses the Earth Good Morning, like a mother’s kiss for her newborn baby. I carry that moment with me and recount it every morning when my eyes open. I love y’all.
Lovely!
Like a morning prayer, Lord let me listen with wonder.
I feel myself blessed to have lived my entire lifetime in the country and have been able to hear the sounds of birds, wildlife and many other things I often took for granted. I wonder how many that live in the city would know the sound of a bobcat (often compared to a woman screaming) or the call of a red tailed hawk, have heard the lonesome sound of a mourning dove cooing or have heard the “ bob white” call of the the almost extinct bobwhite quail. I don’t hear it as much now, but just the sound of my neighbor’s different make of tractors while they were plowing was always pleasing o me. The sweet sound of a M Farmall or the “pop pop “ sound of a larger 2 cylinder JD was a lullaby to me. Times are now changing, now with so much farm land being sold and strangers moving in I hear more traffic noise than these other sounds. I remember the time when you knew who it was by just time of day and the sound of their car. I lay awake many nights and now hear cars at all times during the night, something that was unheard off not that many years ago after the few 2nd shift neighbors came home around midnight. Making me live in town in a place where the roof of the houses almost touch and you are close enough to hear the sound of your neighbor “pass gas” would be cruel punishment for this old country boy!
Randy, I can hear the things you described! Thank you! I enjoy those same sounds.
Instead of writing hawk’s call, it might have been better to write screech. Have you ever seen or heard crows fighting a hawk especially during the crow’s “nesting “time of the year?