February 26, 2013

Croak Sonata

wood frogs croaks
wood frogs croaks (Photo credit: prefers salt marsh)
Yesterday I went to Tobacco Trail for a walk. Though more and more I dislike driving, I still purposely drove a little farther to a location that was more secluded. I was glad I did, because when I got there, I found the place extremely pleasant.

The trail lied low, at the bottom of the tree roots, so the trees looked immensely tall, made me felt like curling up inside womb of Mother nature, embraced by the mighty security. Occasionally I saw some fancy houses sitting inside woods, wondered how it felt living inside. It must be hauntingly interesting. I thought of some Gothic literature I read, wondered which one fit these houses the most. Woods were deep. Most of them are deciduous so their naked trunks and branches tangled in all the directions, made very rich layers of gray. There were also some evergreens broke the gray tone, but their color saturation was low, seemed to me that they intended to blend themselves into this humble subtleness of winter.

There were some people walking, jogging and biking, but it was quiet overall, very quiet, except some croaking voice from woods. Interestingly, I did not notice croak when I first walked into trail, it was when I walked back, at pinnacle moment of absorbing myself in quietness, I heard it. It was loud, but in an undulate rhythm, from different direction, here and there, revolved me in 360 degree like stereo music.

My discovering croak was both surprising and ecstatic. I am familiar with croak, yes, totally, but it was decades ago when I was a child, living in countryside of China, and at night, when I heard it. So for me it was the characteristics of the NIGHT. But yesterday afternoon, at the time when the Sun - even though it was hidden behind cloud - was far from retiring, I was surrounded by its voice. It was an unusual excitement to me.

Being chronically ill, I have been overly sensitive with noise, or sound, even music sometime brought me headache. However the Nature always surprises me, such as yesterday, this croaking voice, some was loud, but gentle, yet playful, not only it did not give me headache, but massaged my brain with an even deeper serenity.

It was such a good time. I drove back with a full load of joy.

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  1. Vivid descriptions, yunyi-shows you have an artist's eye for observing your surroundings. I love walking in the woods-the serenity, the solitude, and all the unexpected things I discover and see. It always refreshes my mind and my spirit. I find the sounds of nature so joyful and relaxing, whereas city noises, mechanical noises, feel so dissonant and grating. I like how you described the frog's voices as being playful, because that's just how they've always sounded to me.

  2. Beautiful post, Yun Yi! Thanks for including the video of the wood frogs. Very peaceful feeling. So interesting that you didn’t notice the croaking until you were absorbed by quietness. I think we often miss so much in life because we cannot absorb ourselves in the stillness of things. I enjoy quiet walks like that. I loved your line about, “curling up inside the womb of Mother Nature.” I’d love to live in one of these houses by the woods. It must be so difficult to be chronically ill and how wonderful that Nature brought you joy!

  3. Thanks np! Yes, the "sounds of nature" is always joyful. Another time I had such a good experience during the past fall with the sound of wind. it was made by leaves. it was really a brain massage.

    @jerseylil, glad you stopping by. the video was borrowed. That day I did not bring camera. I make sure next I do.

  4. Nature is a fantastic thing.

    I find cars, concrete and shopping malls make me restless to get away from them, and find it necessary to step out of modern society's over stimulation now and then to enjoy something so simple as a croak.

    I enjoyed the post.