Inspired by recalling the events when we were pulling out of Maine in early April, and how on account of the unseasonably warm temperatures, the chorus of spring peepers from the wetland & ponds surrounding the house were already ramping up. Normally the neighborhood was blanketed with an ambient backdrop of their evening chorus. But I'll never forget how there were some areas on the highway, where even at fifty-miles per hour with the window closed, you could clearly hear delineated zones of incredibly loud sonic orgies between the desperate amphibians.
More recently during a bird-watching outing at the Palmer Hay Flats Game Refuge, we heard what sounded like billions of them, filling the Alaskan air with their calls.
Sometimes it's the little things... especially in such numbers.
|A 28,800 acre echo-chamber|