Modern Serenade

This morning an owl is trying to compete with the noise in  the neighborhood. “Whoo Who   Whoo  Whoat. . . Whoo Whoo Whoo Whoooooo!”

The commercial lawn services use extremely loud machines. Airplanes fly over, low, single-engine jobs. In the lulls other birds try to get in a few bars of their songs. Almost impossible, however. Cars drive by. A van delivers something with a “bang, slam” of its doors. In the distance Georgia 400 drones on and on and on. . . 

“Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Woosh. Cajange.” “Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Woosh. Thump.” The neighbor is out shooting, or attempting to shoot, hoops. 
Noise Abatement. Apparently there are laws and ordinances against just about everything except the important stuff, like cars, trucks, airplanes, lawn machines, people and children in general and children with basketballs…

Apparently the cicadas didn’t get enough time last night to make noise, so they’re joining in the cacophony. Where, O Where is the Conductor? All that is required is the kid on the other block to “play” his drums. “Bam. Bam. BamBam. Bam. Bam. BamBam. (repeat adnausium (sp?).)”

My coffee didn’t taste as nice as usual. And my pipe isn’t relieving my stress as it is required to do under threat of disuse. The coffee got cold too fast. Now Sara is vacuuming her room. Alias, the members of one’s own family are among the noise makers.

Now a lawn maintenance guy just parked in the cut-du-sac. “Clang. CaJunk,” trailer doors drop open. Wheeling out his mower, mounting it and roaring off while another guy fires up a lawn edger to attack the stray strands of grass along the curb. “Woosh. Woosh,” the mower guy has done his deed and is running the insidious thing up the trailer ramp. The curb guy isn’t making enough noise, so cranks it up another notch.

Poor Zack, with all the competition, he gave up on shooting hoops and disappeared somewhere, no doubt to make noise in another part of the neighborhood. 

Using a tapered pipe cleaner, I swab out the condensation from the pipe stem, pack gently, and relight sucking in a tiny piece of tobacco leaf in the process. “Puuu. Fushy,” I add the the chorus as I expel the dastardly leaf chunk. 

No wonder so many men retire and soon die; they can’t handle life at home during the daytime. 

“Wait for the LORD; be strong and courageous. Wait for the LORD.” (Psalm 27:14) 

Wait. It’s not what one thinks. It means endure with what is happening. One commentator said it plainly, that it doesn’t mean sit idly by and do nothing, but in our actions, our thoughts, our ways, be righteous in all we do. Patience. Patience. Patience.

Reminds me of a comic strip. Three vultures awaiting a rabbits demise. One says, “Patience, Henry.” “Harrumph,” says Henry, “Patience my A@#$. I’m gonna kill something.” 

It’s trash day today. The trash truck will have a lot of competition if it thinks it can disturb me today. 

Somewhere south of the Saragossa Sea is the Horse Latitudes and the doldrums. Not much wind there. One’s sails will luff. One shan’t make much progress. One shan’t hear the sounds of Modern Life, either. Ah, to be becalmed in the Horse Latitudes. To hear the silence.

There are some sounds one becomes inured to. Like the wind. Up on the Apache-Sitgreaves, in Arizona’s White Mountains, the cowboys dread the one month each year that the wind doesn’t blow. They say it makes them a bit crazy–all the quiet on the open range in the high desert beneath the alpine mountains. 

But the chorus of mechanical man’s inventions? Can one truly become accustom to such a racket? My brother who operated a B&B for some years new Yosemite said he had one of those background noise radios in each room for guest that couldn’t sleep for all the quiet. Odd, isn’t it? That it could be too quiet to sleep!

With all the noise here, in my once-rural, now metro, area north of Atlanta, I wonder if we’ll hear the final sound of the Shofar calling the living and the dead to rise to meet Messiah Yeshua.

And isn’t the devil laughing at what we’ve done to ourselves?

Priestly Blessing
Priestly Blessing

7 thoughts on “Modern Serenade

  1. So true. The noise of the city, sometimes I think, can lead us to never being able to truly find peace. … I have a personal theory on that… prince of the air…chief musician…maybe he is the master of noise down here…to try to keep us all in distraction…and that’s why it’s so important to “get off the asphalt,” as my husband has so coined the phrase. Getting out in nature really enables His Spirit to speak. Just my 2cents worth. … GA 400, busy city noises, planes overhead, I bet I can guess your whereabouts. 😉 I love NGA!💕


    1. I love your insight, Mia. I’ve never thought of it like that, chaotic non-music inflicted upon us by that chief Heavenly musician, rebellious and fallen. . .

      I like the phrase your husband coined, ‘get off the asphalt” too.

      Yup. In 2003 not far off 400 x12, is was still quite rural: just inside Forsyth County, and far enough from the Fulton County development. These days the road on which we live is a massive traffic jam in the late afternoon, and more development. We’ve been blessed, though, that there’s a creek and wooded area at the rear of our property. Deer still roam. Coyotes, too. And for the last several years we’ve enjoyed to hoots of several barred owls.

      Yet, as I head farther north, up to River Bend Gun Club, I feel the greater open spaces, the greater peace in which we were suppose to live. I believe we will one day experience that peace, and more even, when we fully experience the Peace of YeshuaJesus, in glorified bodies, no longer subject to the corruption that invaded this world.

      L-RD Bless, Keep, Shine upon and through y’all. . .


      Liked by 1 person

      1. That’s great that you are blessed with a creek and wooded area in the county in which you live. Yes, I thought that might be around the area you described. The southern side is definitely crazy busy, and even on the north side, it’s gotten busier over the years. The advantage of the north side is there are quick jump offs to plenty of mountainous adventures. If you get a chance, one day travel up 400 to Hwy 53 and venture up to Amicalola Falls. The falls are gorgeous, and they renovated the lodge over the past few years, and the view is beautiful! 😊 And I totally agree with you, one day we will experience our hat beautiful peace on the other side with the Prince of Peace. I’m SO looking forward to that day!


      2. Ah, yes, Amicalola Falls is a wonderful place to visit. While we haven’t been in the last few years, we went often when our kids were young. We took family, while visiting us, up there too. Loved the stairway–how many steps? I’d struggle doing them these days with my bad knees. One weekend, I took my son camping there. He fell in love with one of the snakes that the naturalist let him hold.

        I’ve been waiting for my wife to retire to move farther north; alas, these days I’m thinking even Blairsville may be becoming a bit crowded. Maranatha! Then the King of King’s Peace. . .

        BTW I’ve read a number of your restaurant reviews–very interesting and well done.

        L-RD Bless, Keep, Shine. . .

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Yes, Amicalola has a total of 604 total. There’s a nice pull in about half way up that you can drive to and actually walk to see the falls; so, you don’t have to tackle the stairs. I completely understand bad knees. Mine don’t do too favorably on the way down anymore! Our boys used to love the snake exhibit they had in the welcome center, but a couple of years back, they removed the venomous ones due to someone getting bit (or at least that’s the “story”).
        Yes, unfortunately, Blairsville is a bit busier these days; however, there’s still quite a bit of property in the surrounding areas that can make you feel as if they might just succeed from the Union again, or at least, get off the grid rather quickly! 😂 … thanks for the kind words. There’s some reviews of places in Blairsville and even a few over in your “neck of the woods.” 😉 Happy reading and blessings to you!

        Liked by 1 person

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