1. |
Midnight (June 18, 2000)
02:59
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low hum and crackle of power lines
lightning illuminates the void
between horizon and clouds
a nighthawk calling and diving
calling and diving
wings slicing the darkness
a freight train's horn
answered by yipping coyotes in the east
and by their kin to the west
soon joined by a chorus of local dogs
then mourning dove
then mockingbird's midnight song
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2. |
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a long, miraculous stretch of absolute silence
beneath icy full moon glow
no cricket, coyote
bat or train
or even wind
nothing
but the body's living sounds
breathing
swallowing
digestion
nervous system
roused suddenly by
the phantom hiss of great, gliding wings
an owl, perhaps
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3. |
2:00 AM (July 19, 2000)
03:00
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subliminal, alien drone
like distant frog pond chorus
mating spadefoot toads?
a startled dove bursts from its roost
rudely awakened
many crickets chirp in the damp grass
wary hound, anxious rooster
the trains never sleep
the mysterious drone remains
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4. |
3:00 AM (August 1, 2000)
03:00
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crickets sparse
humming softly in the grass
setting scattered stars to song
a bird emits a single peep
and a dog barks
starting a chain reaction across the mesa
in deepest night
all the word seems to sleep
yet a few crisp snaps of something unseen
falling leaf, or small creature
scuttling in the grass
a nighthawk plunges into deep space
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5. |
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one cricket, very near
starts/stops
starts/stops
the ringing of countless others
their high overtones hung
like mist in the air
buzz of electricity, and
ultrasonic blips of bats in flight
twice a quick rodent darts across the path
skittering into brittle undergrowth
no sound of wind
or falling stars
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6. |
5:00 AM (August 1, 2000)
02:59
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the world awakens, one bird at a time
first a nighthawk
calling and swooping overhead
and another across the meadow
then a towhee, quite close
a dove, two jays
another towhee and more
then multiples of these
echoing over fields and hills
as crickets fall
slowly silent in the warming sun
coyotes howl, then the dogs
neighbors stir, and a train rumbles away
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7. |
6:00 AM (August 9, 1999)
03:00
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an exuberant chorus
of many layered voices
joyful cacophony
westbound freight takes its time
fading into silence, and the birds
go quiet in its wake
a few crickets linger, then
nothing stirs but
shadows in the grass
soon another train
not as long, headed east
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8. |
7:00 AM (May 28, 2000)
03:00
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a rowdy gang of piñon jays clatters past
a gaggle of giggles, a whir of wings
old man crow is serious, dignified
no time for games or silliness
a pair of kingbirds do their mating dance
flapping and screeching with desire
mockingbird spins endless variations
not a hermit thrush, but meadowlark
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9. |
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steady, insistent cry of townsend's solitaire
heep...heep...heep...heep...heep...
an occasional crow, jay
or other small bird
one of them lands nearby
wings and air
wind softly rattles pine needles and grass
bringing the long, low whistles of trains
neighbors go about their living
children's laughter, slamming doors
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10. |
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gusting wind articulated
by ponerosa pine's graceful needles
as low rumble of distant ocean waves
curious scrub jays flap
and scream in surrounding piñon
trying to provoke a response
cranky ravens wheel high above
clucking and cawing their disapproval
patches of midnight adrift in azure sky
the gentle arc of a jet
a lonesome train whistle
a persistent towhee
in the end, only wind
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11. |
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the birds come to see the odd, human thing
neither rock, nor tree, nor cholla
standing dead still in midwinter morning sun
they fly in close, curious and bold
darting about, fluttering and clucking
trying to make sense of it
getting no reaction
they lose interest and
resume their morning routine
flickers peck at gray juniper limbs
their hawkish cries tossed on the breeze
a flock of juncos twitter in the brush
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12. |
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a stray sheet of newspaper
rustles in the wind
bearded grass drums upon its surface
giving it rhythmic purpose here
reading the weathered words
not as litter, but as lovely music
the grass itself barely audible
all the more beautiful for that
a piñon jay pecks busily at dry wood
then calls out suddenly
summoning hidden comrades
to convene and observe
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13. |
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a hush falls upon the land at midday
but for the wind murmuring low
a very few sounds come
it seems, from a long distance
a dog, a crow, a jay
the voices of children across the hill
a single jet makes little disturbance
even the trains are at rest
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14. |
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two dry juniper branches
scrape gently against each other
their delicate abrasions
random, pleasingly melodic
a lone raven calls to no one in particular
the collective whisp and rattle of grass becomes,
at ground level, many distinct voices
a gift of juncos, meeting in the old tree
their peeps changing abruptly to blips
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15. |
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sandhill cranes gabbling high above
invisible in autumn's blue depths
a pair of crows shout at each other
across the open field
snapping red-winged grasshoppers describe
a series of brief arcs, from there to there
their smaller kin lie hidden
discreetly hissing in the black grama
the lanky stalks tremble and sigh
as a dozen piñon jays stir the air
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16. |
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a strong wind conjures aeolian music
from power lines and fence wire
howling through juniper, and
thrashing the dry winter grass
jays chatter across the meadow
as the gale grows stronger
and a droning airplane intones
harmonic gliss across the sky
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17. |
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late afternoon, stillness
several birds
a sudden riffle of wind
five intermittent grasshoppers
one of them, gnawing at a leaf
surprisingly audible
a pair of indecisive crickets
a few itinerant bees
and 255 flies
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18. |
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a hush, almost sacred
as evening settles into twilight
clouds shifting in shape and color
pale moon frosted in lavender mist
distant power lines glow, ropes
of golden light strung elegantly to the horizon
richly mingled overtones of train and jet
the delicate rhythm
of a lacy green moth fluttering its wings
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19. |
6:00 PM (August 8, 1999)
03:00
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songs of solitary birds in flight
dove, hummingbird, nighthawk, jay
deep rumble of clouds colliding in the southern sky
wind whisps through juniper and tall grass
gathering velocity as the storm approaches
thunder cracks sharply overhead
four or five crickets rasp steadily
grasshoppers, flies, birds behind them
finally, light rain spatters on earth, grass, and stone
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20. |
7:00 PM (July 18, 2000)
03:00
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the sky fills with hovering nighthawks
blown in upon the monsoon's crest
the trees mumble and moan, as thunder
builds slowly in the gathering clouds
electricity reaches across the darkened sky
and rain shifts from drizzle to downpour
its thrumming patter upon roof and ground
and musical ping on each metal surface
rises to crescendo, then subsides
as the storm rolls onward
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21. |
8:00 PM (May 27, 2000)
03:00
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doves roosting in the light's last fading
their mournful cries and wheeping wings
a hummingbird hunting for nectar
deep throb and nervous twitter
the nighthawk's persistent, piercing call
stops suddenly as it hovers, then falls
astonishing hum of air through feathers
as it pulls from its dive, hurtling skyward
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22. |
9:00 PM (July 31, 1999)
02:59
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cricket cricket
cricket cricket
cricket cricket cricket
cricket cricket cricket
cricket cricket
TRAIN-TRAIN-TRAIN-TRAIN-TRAIN-TRAIN-TRAIN-TRAIN-TRAIN
cricket
cricket cricket
cricket cricket cricket
cricket cricket
cricket
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23. |
10:00 PM (June 17, 2000)
03:00
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not quite silence
but stillness, in spite of trains
a few crickets widely dispersed
two neighbors singing in crossed rhythms
piñon and juniper seem to whisper
as if windblown
yet no branch trembles
nor a single tuft of grass
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24. |
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a deep, molecular emptiness
hangs in the air
time holding its breath
an owl calls from afar
barely rising above
the thin, black line of silence
a dog barks, once
a train whines at the cusp of audibility
drifts seamlessly into jet noise and
dissolves in the midnight sky
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Steve Peters Seattle, Washington
I make music and sound using field recordings, acoustic instruments, found/natural objects, electronics, and voices. Much of this work is site-specific or place oriented. Thank you for listening.
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