Lately, while strolling around various local paths and off-track, I have thought about family and others affected by the numerous natural disasters that have occurred this year. We take so many things for granted; one small thing was the sound of a persistent noisy tui.
With our usual earphones stuck in, chattering loudly in a park, wandering about in bubble worlds. Nature has noises 24/7. There’s nothing better than tuning in with nature and just listening. Usually, vehicles or aircraft are present, but moving into small patches of bush, countryside, woodlands and forest, they become more distant. When first entering a “silent place”, I found the sound of silence wasn’t silent with its babbling streams and the odd splash of water life. Grasses are shuffling, and songbirds and rain are hitting the leaves.
On one particular sunny Spring day in 2018, my surroundings differed.
Firstly, it’s the constant noise of frustrated dogs as we pass, or are they protecting their home from people like us? Not that we are a threat, of course! Then another different noise makes an appearance of sorts.
Shhhhh
Listen.
Did you hear that?
That noise is frogs, not the sort that goes “croak”, a word customarily associated with frogs and written in children’s books. This sound is somewhat different. Check it out here on Instagram when we were known as Globalhousesitterx2. That recording was my second attempt to record those frogs as a cow decided to take the limelight with an almighty bellow.
Not only were there frogs to entertain, but there were also numerous turtles. As we passed, more than one “plop” could be heard. Surprisingly to us is how we have become quite blase about seeing so many of these species whom we never encounter as we wander around the countryside of New Zealand. “Oh, there goes another turtle”, we say after hearing the first lot of dive-bombing turtle sounds: very elusive creatures, those turtles.
With another corner turn, we need to stop as a tractor passes us slowly; someone is missing on this tractor. It’s the farmer’s wife. She usually holds the prominent backseat position or, on occasion, straddles a partial part of the front throne.
As the drone of the tractor engine lessens, the tweeting of birds becomes my focus. These are small in stature, unlike their more significant partners in the sky, the black and white magpies.
Then further down the road, standing precariously on jagged lumps of rock, are goats with bells around their necks. This clanging noise echoes around the valley. It is a sound we usually don’t hear and one that I enjoy listening to; unfortunately, the mountain goats are hard to photograph, though I captured more domesticated ones at the beginning of our walk.
The countryside comes alive more as we hear another sound, a swishing sort of noise; with more steps from us, we come across a woman and a sickle cutting down metre-long grass, supposedly for her forever bellowing cows whose sounds can be heard from afar.
Sshhh, did you hear that?
Life at No. 22 
I had no idea where Dalyan was until I spotted the tag for Turkey! Actually whilst we have no turtles or frogs (though I do recall hearing one on a walk one day, but it remained unseen) this could be a walk around the lanes here – birdsong: robins and chaffinches and squabbling sparrows, the occasional blackbird; sheep bleating and cattle lowing; farm vehicles; buzzards mewing overhead; an occasional helicopter; the beating wings of crows: the countryside is definitely not quiet. A lovely look back in time.
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Thanks Jude, and I have very fond memories of all the birds we were fortunate enough to hear on our walks in the UK. Amazingly, most people we housesat for had at least one birdfeeder if not more. The squirrels helping themselves to the birdfeed well that is another story.
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And this is why it’s lovely to walk without earpods. Hope you’re okay after the cyclone’s shenanigans.
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Agree, Jo; it also makes the walker feel more connected to their surroundings. We were very fortunate that our area was not affected as much this time as Hawkes Bay, Gisborne and further north.
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Thanks for the virtual walk and it was great.
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Thank you for taking the time to comment, and pleased you enjoyed the virtual walk.
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Good to focus on a sense often ignored when out wandering
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It is, and I love listening to birds while walking. In Turkey, it was such a novelty to see so many turtles and frogs that sounded different.
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I enjoyed the walk, thank you, Suzanne.
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Good to hear, Sue. A post I enjoyed writing and a place where we learned more about another culture.
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Back lanes here are often noisy with birds. I never know which, though. Michael identifies them as they swoop past me. And frogs we have aplenty in Spring, down a different lane. My memories of Dalyan are mostly silent, as we drifted along on the water. Ripples… you can hear? But not heat. Thanks for taking me back, Suzanne.
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Now, cruising along the water would be an excellent way to enjoy that coastline and not so dusty as walking around the countryside. Well done, Michael, for the ability to identify various birds. Now that would be interesting.
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Beautiful. You utterly transported me for a few glorious minutes. Thank you.
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Thanks very much, George; it was fun remembering when we learnt so much about the Turkish way of life—an eye-opener on most days.
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