I hear the wind in the firs and cedars. I hear the rain pattering on the deck. I hear my own thoughts, because I’m one of the fortunate people who live in the forest.

Now if I could just get those thoughts to stray from what I have to do at work the next day!

The sights and sounds of the night: the stars of the Southern Cross - brilliant in the night sky, the whispery sounds of the feet of animals moving across the scrub grass, munching as they go, and the occasional splash that told us that our close-by neighbors, the salt-water crocs that inevitably had already grown to their record 18-foot size, were busy grabbing up the incredible life under the surface of the Yellow River in Australia’s Northern Territory of Crocodille Dundee fame.

Years ago, a trailer (no motels then even) was our home-away-from-home as we did some exploration of a place wild, rocky and jungly - called Arnhem Land by the Aborginals - way up north in the center of the Australian continent. People were rare. The noises were all of nature - but it was a different, almost pre-historic world of creatures who made their homes there in droves.  . as we were also doing for a bit.

It was almost impossible to sleep in the heat of the night in a home of 1940 metal with few windows - but kneeling on the bed, watching out as large bands of kangaroos - some with joeys - nibbled the little green that was there - has never been erased in my mind. Silhouetted in the shadows of the jungle trees, herds of Cape buffalo - an animal that you hope never to see on foot as it will be the last thing you see - roamed in the night, knocking down saplings in their way. 

Underneath our trailer scrounging for insects, a frilled neck lizard could be heard (and seen often)  (Click here: Frill neck Lizard: Photo by Photographer Birte Ragland - photo.net - if you want to see what I actually carried for 20 miles in a van while the 22-inch long lizard fought like a lion!! KNOW that it was for naturalist reasons, and I was more scared than he was!). 

Thousands of bats hung in the night sky, but by day, their trees were heavy with them sleeping upside down.  The Kookaburra - the Laughing Jackass - would make his unearthly sounds in those moments before dawn, a time when every beautiful bird in creation would stop to pose for a photo - just for us (we thought).  And the ostriches …

So - for that while - it was my "home" - and it was those nights that seem to surpass - in that wonderful world of memory - all the still wonderful, comforting noises of home tonight and every night that never fail to give me a sense of peace.

We always have at least a breeze at night……..most of the time I can hear my Wind chimes………during the storms in the Winter I have to take them down………they keep me awake.

I do Hear the traffic on the street, but I pretend I’m hearing the roar of waves and that helps.

I hear sex.

My neighbour has 2-3 minutes of apparently VERY good but very SHORT sex. Afterward it sounds as though she is dragging her toilet across her floor. Once she does that a couple of times she slams the bathroom door and has a shower.

I hear this at 6:30 am and 9:30 pm everyday. Sometimes it’s a little later than 9:30 but most days you could set your clock by it.

I believe she is madly in love with a premature ejaculator. The toilet dragging and door slamming I could do without but I am pleased that she is so regularly satisfied even if it is for a scant few minutes. 

Oh, yes. One more note. She only ever uses the vowel sound OH. No AH or UH. I suppose EEEE would be disconcerting.  

Now that spring has arrived in Hamilton Park, Jersey City, I’mexposed to many sounds outside my windows: the excited chatter and laughter ofguests, the tinkle of glasses, and faint music coming from neighbors having abarbeque on their deck; the quiet toot of the train whistle, or the sound of aboat whistle coming from the Hudson River; "boom" cars with their mega-largeamps booming music; the loud, gunning sounds of motorcycles; people leaving thesmall restaurants and bars having inebriated-fueled conversations; the clamorof garbage trucks every Monday and Thursday; and sometimes, the great bigsound of…quiet.