Nostalgia

How I miss the sound of the lonely train chucketty chucking along snaking rails the eerie hooting of its horn cutting a path through unyielding darkness that carries one's mind on a mysterious journey to places unknown. The lonesome hooting of the owl filling one with premonitions taught to us as old wives tales. The high pitched singing of the cicada among the bushy trees while ghostly shadows lurch unsteadily in the shifting light of the moon. From the distance and echoing down the hills the plaintive cry of the coyote bring a chill to the bones and fear to the hunter. The drip drip of raindrops on iron roofs,....stacatto beats leading us into dreams. Even the creak of the old house as it settles down to sleep fills me with comfort and belonging. Then dawn that gentle tone of day when early birds set up a chirp and a song while farmers milk and tend their flock. The smell of a hearty breakfast of bacon eggs and ham tickle the senses shocking the sleeper into wakefullness another day bright and crisp as mist slowly ebbs and bright sunshine comes out to play. while cattle graze along green sloping hillsides, dotting the landcape like raisin on bread and horses, fleet of hoof, gallop accross the ridges,flaming manes fanned by a teasing wind. My home in the country is what I miss where everyday sounds is a symphony unique so unlike city sounds .....a clash of brass... a chaotic symphony I miss life in the countryside where all sounds fuse together in blissful harmony.