It makes perfect sense if you hear a song that it may stick in your head for hours or for the day. What is curious is when you find yourself singing a song and are surprised, wondering where out of the blue it came from.
One morning before work I took a short walk with Ducky Doodle so he'd have a chance to "do his business" before being stuck in the house all day. The sun was shining as I jaunted down the road, the air was sweet and sparkling, the birds were calling, and suddenly I noticed I was singing "Little Arrows."
What the hell?
|One of the wildflowers abundant in the ditches along our road. I call it candytuft, as it has the same sweet scent.|
Maggie Turner has left a new comment on your post "The Coos":
I like cows. We had only one cow on our farm when was growing up, a milk cow. She liked to roam and was an expert at deciphering weaknesses in fence structure. We kids loved that cow, I don't think the adults responsible for her did though.
I like them too, in an affectionate sort of way, but don't want the duty of looking after them or cleaning up after them. If I had to do that, I'd do without cattle. They get through fences, you have to freeze your fingers in 30-below when the water bowl quits working ... on it goes. No thanks. Like much of farm life, it looks peaceful and appealing from the outside, but it's actually a heavy load of work and care that you don't often get to relax and enjoy.
Was it the mooers who were cooing or did you sort out some other critters who have this ability. I've never forgotten my mourning doves beneath my bedroom window back in Ontario who would coo softly through the night. So comforting.
This was a long, drawn-out and quite loud sound; not bovine in any way I've ever heard.
I'll have to accept that I may never know.
Last night I went outside with Ducky Doodle and heard a bird I've never heard before. It wasn't an owl. It was dark. The call, a very loud two-part almost-whistle, came from one side of the house, then high in a tree on the other side, as if it had flown from the trees on one side of the house to the other, and then a minute later it was coming from west of the yard.
Not a dove.
What kinds of birds fly around at night, if not owls?
Hornswoggled, here. Still learning. Life full of mysteries small and large.