The Silent Visitor

It might be my background in music that lets me tolerate a huge range of sounds. Do I

miss 25 grade two students all trying to play the recorder? No! But some sounds that others find irritating, I find appealing. At night, the incessant call of the whip-o-will, the mating sound of a partridge, a woodpecker on our tin roof.

And soon, the call of a rooster will join the throng. I just hope its not at 4 am.

At least with sound, you have some sense of an animal’s direction. But yesterday, after gardening, I watched ticks crawling up my pant leg, quietly going about their business, trying to find skin.

I wore an old white shirt and cream pants, so they’re easy to detect. By the end of my inspection I found 12. What a pity they don’t have a bell on their hideous heads that tells me they’re coming.

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