Where no tyranny is tolerable
Takes me back to September of 1965. How lonely and homesick I was, having never been away from home before. before. It felt so drab and at times frightening.
I remember the sound of what I was told were bluejays, I could hear them caw caw cawing from wherever it was they were. I thought they sounded like the gulls I heard at the sea shore. Caw ... Caw ... caw ... just hearing or even thinking about that bluejay sound reminds me ... makes me feel sad and gloomy. At the time, I could hear enough to tell the different calls of birds, but just some of them. I was told about and learned the call of a nasty one called a cowbird, which has the nasty habit of taking over another's nest, sitting on the eggs, then making a quick meal of the small fry when they hatch. Boy, I thought only humans did stuff like that! I could easily hear flocks of birds as they passed, and in what direction. I could hear the distant whistles of passing trains, and wondered where it was the trains were going. Had I been armed with more than a water pistol, I might have even taken a shot at them. (You know how ten-yer-olds think).
On summer vacation, if I woke early enough, I would listen out the window in wonder as the night sounds gradually became day sounds, the activity from the other houses, opening and closing doors, cars pulling out of driveways, the sounds of the garbage truck on its rounds. There was this bird I heard every morning just out the window ... I don't know what kind of bird it was. I can still whistle his song I heard 40 years ago. (whistles) but that won't work on Passions.
Now I live in an apartment and in order to hear anything I have to specifically set up for it. I don't know if there are any birds here, or anything. Just parked cars.
I wish I had your ability to add colors and visuals to your writes.