Miller Land | Our Family's Little Blog

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned after living in the country for 10 months is that loudness has its place, one of them being a 2-story farmhouse on Indian Lake Road in Byesville, Ohio.

I have had to increase my volume to be heard in the quietest place I have ever lived. There isn’t much city noise, save the occasional car that swooshes along the road just outside the house, but there are plenty of other noises.

Machines. The low rumble of the four-wheeler signals the approach of kin. The deafening mower (Uncle Dave’s, Kevin’s, or Pa’s) ruins every Usertest known to man. It hums steadily in and out for a couple of hours whenever Brent mows the lawn. It used to take a third of the time when the three brothers did their “psychotic mower ballet” all at once.  According to Kate, it was truly a sight to behold.

Then there are the sounds of nature all day, every where.

Birds. I know for sure that the first word of Mourning Dove is spelled the sad way because one laundry day, each time I came out to hang the laundry or to collect it, I heard the cooing, no matter what time of day it was.  Birds generate a lot of noise around here.

Insects play their part too. The slow crescendo of cicada static is maddening at times. There’s a feeling of physical relief when a wave is past and it’s quiet for a moment. But it’s soon followed by another.  Horseflies are as big as your thumb and sound like bombers when they fly past. The air is thick with insect life, each with its distinctive sound.

This past week when we lost power for two days, we realized that we didn’t need the air conditioner as much to get by. The beautiful, low-humidity weather and gentle breeze didn’t hurt either. Let’s just say, the weather could have been worse for a blackout, at least down in the valley. Usually, however, there’s no way to survive the summers here without them. Especially if you have asthma and you can’t breathe in the thick air. When we are running our ancient AC’s, though, you can’t hear squat when you’re sitting next to them. I make my point late, I know.

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