We’ve been sleeping with the windows open this summer. Actually, we sleep with the windows open whenever the weather cooperates, so that’s usually April-October. Not bad. Good sleeping weather. With the unholy heat we’ve had this summer, it’s the only time we could get our west-facing bedroom cooled off. Then the windows go closed again in the morning.
The downside to this wonderful sleeping arrangement is the outdoor ambiance. We used to have crickets chirp us to sleep, but the school construction decimated their habitat, so they’re gone. Hopefully they’ll be back. No cicadas because there are no mature trees. I miss the cicada hiss from my childhood memories. Our neighbors are quiet, no late-night parties. No highway sounds, no barking dogs (though we do hear the occasional coyote pack)…for the most part peaceful.
Except for the effing owls.
I don’t know where they’re coming from or what the hell they’re doing, but they’re doing it under my bedroom window. And these aren’t quiet, demure owls. These suckers are owl-shouting to each other across long distances. A couple of times now they’ve woken both me and Tom up. Not hard to wake up Tom, but I once slept through a tornado. While tent camping. I’m a heavy sleeper, is what I’m saying here. Last night they woke us up again; I believe I may have uttered a few choice words. Once I finally fell back asleep, I dreamt of large owls in my room. Owls visible in the night only by their glowing eyes.
So, owl, I love that you can turn your heads almost completely around. I’m impressed by your night vision and that your poop can be dissected to see what you ate. You’re an awesome animal.
Just shut up under my window while I’m trying to sleep and I won’t go to your house during the day and shout at my kids.