Sounds of Spring

 ​Rural residents will agree with me that springtime is a noisy time. Far from peaceful and tranquil, country life is filled with hectic, loud goings-on. Beginning with that first, ethereal light from the not-yet-risen sun, the cacophony of sounds begin. ​

Though some might believe spring to be a tranquil time, Tom turkeys are here to prove them wrong.

    ​First are Tom turkeys, gobbling madly to their prospective mates. The turkey utters his spiel in a long string of high-pitched notes that descend at the end. This lasts until well into mid-morning.
    Imagine trying to sleep with a dozen or so turkeys just outside your bedroom window. It’s nearly impossible. I need to remind myself to go to bed extra-early now, to make up for lost sleep in the morning.
    Next, are the various woodpeckers. Male woodpeckers drum on anything that will resonate, in order to attract and hopefully, impress a mate. The ice storm of 1998 did much to create drumming trees, too. Dead poplars and half-dead maples resonate nicely, much to the woodpecker’s delight.
    Some sounds are less intrusive, even pleasant. Wood frogs, what I consider the true harbinger of spring, lend their staccato, quacking sound to still afternoon and evenings. Spring peepers, thousands of them, make a high-pitched din that quickly lulls the listener. 
    Canada geese fly past early and late in the day, and during migration, at night. Just one pair of geese can make an awful racket. But unlike turkeys and woodpeckers, the geese soon pass, and are as soon forgotten.

​As much as I relish most of these springtime sounds, there is one sound that I wait for with a mixture of angst and hope. It’s the sound of the road grader. It begins by toying with the consciousness, a distant, almost imperceptible intrusion. I ask myself if I really hear it. In time, it becomes undeniable. 

The sound of the road grader is a boon to those forced to navigate this abysmal, pothole-ridden dirt road.

​Yet, I wonder if it is what I hope it is. Speculation will not suffice, not when the road I must negotiate each day is nearly impassable. This requires a quick jog out to the main road, to see if my dream has indeed come true.
    And there I see Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and every other mythical, benevolent being, all wrapped up in one, in the form of a bearded man driving a big, yellow road grader. The road grader has come. Rejoice and be glad. This guy is from the government, and he is here to help.
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​​Tom Seymour, Maine writer and naturalist, has written over a dozen titles including: Getting Your Big Fish: Trolling Maine Waters, Wild Plants of Maine: A Useful Guide, Forager’s Notebook, Wild Critters of Maine: Everyday Encounters, and Hidden World Revealed: Musings of a Maine Naturalist from Just Write Books LLC, Topsham, Maine. Seymour has also written a multitude of monthly features including his popular “Maine Wildlife” for The Maine Sportsman Magazine.

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The text of this blog post was taken from Tom Seymour's 2008 book Hidden World Revealed: Musings of a Maine Naturalist, currently available from Just Write Books.

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