It hasn't taken us very long to adapt to the quiet. OK, it's noisy during the day with hammers and power tools, but our neighborhood is so quiet it's crazy. Rush hour consists mainly of joggers, cyclists, and dog-walkers. The nights, now that the rain has subsided, are star-filled. One night this week, we just stood at the end of the driveway looking up at the Milky-Way and numerous falling stars. And when we weren't looking up, the yard was filled with fire-flies. Well those and mosquitoes!! We are being eaten alive. The neighbor tells us that they have never seen a year as bad as this for those ravenous pests, so we are hoping that is attributable to all of the rain we have been receiving.
And as we lay in bed at night, rather than hearing the noise from the freeway traffic, horns tooting, sirens at all hours and jet-airplanes above, we only hear owls hooting, coyotes yipping, loons from the nearby lake, frogs, and the distant train whistle. Bliss.
Well, mostly bliss. It's a little noisy when the raccoon visits to see if there is anything on the table outside or our garbage cans worth his while. We have a metal sink and cabinets outside of the trailer, and he has checked it out a few times. A raccoon, in a metal cabinet, knocking over small propane cylinders, in the dark of the night, is a bit alarming. But I wouldn't trade it for anything.
We say we are looking forward to the day when we actually have power and running water, but there is something so peaceful about candle-light each evening. It really is a tonic for the soul.
