I live on the edge of wilderness. There are 6 homes nearby but ours sees none of them and you can draw a straight line from us for hundreds of miles and cross mostly wildness. There is a great wonder I only consciously realized a few days ago, the noises of the day and night. In the morning the wild is filled with the sounds of birds. All kinds of birds from the screeching blue heron to trilling tiny ones that could join in choir. It is a constant background of living song. At night the dark is filled with chirps, the air and forest are rhythmically beating to thousands of insects, frogs and I know not what. Night sounds are ancient, like grade school orchestras filled with triangles, wood blocks, and ribbed sticks all keeping time to some primitive musical score. Mornings are rhythm sections of strings, beautiful notes, clear and advanced, vibrating cords of enlightenment. That is the key, morning sounds are awakening of our spirits, night ones the ending, beating march into slumber. It is a great kindness that the earth, wilderness is filled with sounding accompaniment, a declaring of the livingness of all things that we live within—a surrounding choir, a background glee to wonder, The Living Chorus.
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