VESPERS

One of the many joys of the jungle is the evening song, the chirps, croaks, churs, trills and buzz from the infinity of insects and frogs. Rather than the melody of the day music, the evening serenade is that of percussion, rhythm, mantra and drone.

Layers of tones, sustained then broken, or tapped out like Morse Code, vibrate in my sinuses, not my ears. If I didn’t like it so much, it could be annoying, kind of driving you mad with monotony, an incessant drip. A type of noise torture.

But that is how I felt about the distant rumble and whoosh of the forever traffic, the weed whacker intrusions, and sirens of various origins of my long time suburban, now sold, Jersey shore home. Noise torture.

It's so interesting to me how people accept and tolerate this kind of pollution and invasion (add to that night lighting). These nasty noises jangle our nervous systems, and disrupt our ability to HEAR/LISTEN/THINK.

The jungle din is gorgeous and healing in comparison. And so it is Gaia's way....a soothing evening chant to lull us into rest, renewal and sweet dreams.

Surely this after dark party scene outnumbers the diurnal jungle crowd many fold. And surely, it is the pure thickness and depth of chorus that is so compelling. This is not some lone cricket, chirping for a mate in the dark corner of the summer pantry of my youth. Oh no.

Here, is a masterful opus with trillions of participants, throats inflating, legs rubbing, glowing underbellies, shadowy flight, the freaks come out at night.

peace