L is for Listening

Anyone who has been in the woods or the countryside knows there is much to hear, especially early in the day. This morning as we drank our tea and coffee on the porch we listened, trying to identify everything we heard. It was early, just before 7 am. Here's some of what we heard within five minutes of just paying attention:

• crows calling on the ridge
• mourning doves (Larry calls them rain crows but they weren't calling for rain this morning unfortunately)
• an owl somewhere in the distant woods (what kind? Not screech; maybe a barn owl)
• a hawk, probably the young redtail that lives on our land
• dogs barking over at the neighbors'
• bees--the bergamot and pineapple sage by the porch are popular right now
• hummingbirds at the feeder and also at the pineapple sage
• a rustle in the dry leaves of the woods--chipmunk? towhee?
• Charlie lapping her saucer of milk
• the squeak of our rockers
• a tree frog, we think it was, calling
• a very high-pitched sound of insects singing but I do not know what they were. Not cicadas--maybe crickets or grasshoppers? I've heard this sound for years but never thought about what made it.

Stop and listen. What do you hear?

Storytellers are listeners, and not just to voices and stories.

We tell stories, but we must first hear those stories from some source, whether it be another person, a book, our own inner voice, or the physical world around us. We need to be listening and aware to hear the stories being gifted to us daily.

There are stories told with a glance, in a song, in children playing a game. Stories are in the wind in the trees, birds calling, water trickling over rocks, the soft swish of snow falling, towhees scratching in dry leaves, doors closing, windows opening, swing sets creaking, footsteps, the hum of air conditioners or crackle of fire, car horns, train whistles, elevators - all these have stories for the teller willing to listen.