sounds

Sounds of the neighborhood on a Saturday morning: as always, a mockingbird repeating prhrases and grabbing all of the attention; the peculiar whir-r-r-r of the house sparrows' wings as they return from the patio to their lofty nest in the fan palm with strands of dried Bermuda grass; the futility of our neighbor calling his dog, "Kismet! Come!"; the rising and falling background "shoosh" of breeze through the trailing edges of the of the palm fronds; the barely audible background hum of the moths and bees and flies; the startling sharp buzz of a hummingbird chasing away a territorial intruder; a fan rotating and gathering speed as a nearby a.c. condenser kicks on. So much to notice when I stop for a moment, am patient with myself and life, and simply listen.