The new season of Threshold entitled Hark, an award-winning podcast concentrating on environmental journalism, starts with Amy Martin asking listeners to hit the pause button and listen to all the sounds they can hear. Perhaps do the same as what she suggests, and close your eyes for a moment to listen to what you can hear in your environment before continue reading.
“Could you hear any sounds that weren’t made by people? If so, consider yourself lucky, because human beings have become very, very loud. This relentless noise we make; it’s not normal. For most of our time on this planet we humans have been very good listeners. Tuning in carefully to the movements of water, changes in the weather, the voices of other animals, but now, many of us move through our days or even our entire lives hearing almost nothing but the sounds of one species – our own.”
– Amy Martin
Michael, every time he comes to visit, utters the words “it is so quiet” countless times. This silence, although not devoid of human produced sound, can be unnerving when one isn’t used to it, and is something I have come to appreciate to such an extent that I would find it difficult to ever live in a city or even a town again.
Coming from generations of farmers on both sides of the family, I guess it comes as no surprise that, as I grew older, I yearned for a piece of land on which I could grow things. It stands in sharp contrast with my teenage self who couldn’t get away fast enough from small town life.
It has been 7 years since we’ve became the owners of this beautiful quinta, I now call home, and although I love the land and the quality of my life on it, if I knew at the time what bumpy ride was waiting for us, I would not have agreed to it.
‘Be careful what you wish for’ is a caveat I now intimately understand, and in my moments of frustration and angst, I often wonder if the price I am paying for the beauty, silence, and deep connection with my environment is worth it. But then the sun rises again, and my tenacious spirit is once again emboldened to face the bureaucracy, the language, the cultural differences, the living apart, the fears of growing old or getting sick here, or the many things that I need to learn how to do from scratch, with a renewed spirit of rebelliousness to survive and thrive.
It is after all, how we spend our days in general that matters the most. The challenges of life will find us no matter where we are.
A special Memory or Moment of Joy:
As per my yearly tradition, I once again went away for my birthday, courtesy of my husband who gifted me two nights in two gorgeous hotels. Unlike last year when it rained non-stop, this year, my actual birthday was a gloriously warm, sunny autumn day. I even managed to swim in the heated outdoor pool, sit in the sauna with its gorgeous view over the ocean, and sip a cocktail while watching the sunset.
Another moment of joy was this past Friday evening that I spent in Alcochete to pick Michael up from the airport in Lisbon, when I stumbled upon the official switching on of the town’s Christmas lights.
I’ve learned to count all the blessings that come my way no matter how big or small they are. And for the next two weeks, I will count having Michael with me on the quinta, even if it involves chores, a blessing.
Notes:
# The workshop is finally wind and watertight. The electricity still needs to be done, and there are some small finishing touches that need to be taken care of, but the most expensive part is now behind us. Ironically, we are still waiting for the municipality to issue our building licence. But that is a story for another day.
# This year has been the driest since I moved here permanently and started keeping records. Our sharka (seasonal pond) still only has a small amount of water in, when in other years it has been full by this time. We’ve had rain (248.5 mm over the last three months), and the landscape is wonderfully green, but we still need about 600 mm to reach the yearly average before the start of summer.
# I harvested two batches of lovely oyster mushrooms early in the month. Unfortunately I found them in one of our lovely old cork oaks, which, although they won’t kill the tree, is a sign that the tree isn’t doing well, and may in all likelihood, like so many other cork oaks on our land, start dying.
A Portuguese Expression:
Vai pentear macacos! – ‘go comb monkeys’ is telling someone to take a hike
Written by: Jolandi
I envy your days of rural quiet, Jolandi! While I am used to the constant drone of city noise now, I admit there are times where I just want to pack a bag of necessities and flee to some remote forest where the only sounds are wind, birds and the occasional (hopefully benign) wild animal. That said, the few times I have stayed in houses in rural areas, I started becoming paranoid from the long silences and the lack of human contact. When I heard a knocking at the side of one house, I almost jumped out of my skin: it turned out to be a woodpecker busily trying to get beneath the siding. (And I was glad I wasn’t the homeowner, since I guessed it was probably beetles or termites attracting the woodpecker.) But a woodpecker beats hearing someone gunning the engine of an old car, or a motorcycle racing down the street.
Happy belated birthday! Good to hear you stayed at a hotel and got to enjoy some luxury on your special day.
Thanks, Hangaku. I’m a sucker for a bit of luxury, and a birthday is such a wonderful excuse to indulge in it.
You are so right about your experiences in rural areas. Living closer to nature always comes with its own set of challenges or adjustments. I always marvel at how adaptable human beings are, and how I’ve been perfectly okay living in the city for such a big chunk of my life. I hope you will find moments of quiet and peace during the festive season. Happy holidays. – Jolandi
Happy belated birthday Jolandi. I think of you out there on the quinta, a crazy cat lady going through the rhythms of her day in time with the environment. Pretty soon the villagers will decide you are brewing up potions and poisons and call in the Spanish Inquisition (that’s meant to be tongue in cheek – hope it read that way). Just don’t get to be especial friends with a raven or you’re done for.
Here, my days are often glued to the laptop, but as we live on a golf course beside the ocean, the sounds I hear are a mixture. The ocean, for example, rolls incessantly, with the only volume and intensity change being tide and turbulence. The sounds of the various water birds living in the riparian corridor on our intermittent ponds compete with the lawn mower and other equipment used on the golf greens; as well as the occasional shout of “fore!”.
But at this time of the year we are joined by the Asian Koel, sometimes called a cuckoo. He’s a not very glamorous black bird, who makes a constant “whoo-rup” (or coo-eee) until he finds a mate. THAT can never come fast enough if you ask me. And yet the other day a similar-looking black bird perched on my balcony singing the most beautiful phrasing. I haven’t been able to match it to the Koel – but don’t know what other bird it was.
The mysteries of nature…
Thanks, Gwen.
Oh, and I think the picture you paint is not just hilarious, but perhaps a bit true. 😅 Better I stay away from those ravens!
I love the description of your home environment. Interesting how certain bird calls are perceived as beautiful, while others can really grate on one’s nerves. I must admit that I am not too keen on the incessant roll of the ocean, as I don’t find that soothing at all. The last two days the wind have been howling here, and that too awakens a disquiet within me. Isn’t it interesting how not all nature sounds are equally liked? – Jolandi
This post makes me think about how lucky/fortunate you’ve been to have experienced both the excitement of “youth” (the loud, never-ending rush of large cities and lifestyle) and the more natural beauty of life (the bliss of silence and nature). It was funny to read Michael’s reaction of “it’s so quiet…” when he returns to your Quinta. Reading how you reflect upon being on both sides of these extremes is wonderful, because it makes me think of all the possibilities in life. Part of it is the rawness of you mentioning that if you knew at the time what a bumpy ride was waiting for you both, you would not have agreed to it. A bit of the “Road Taken vs. Road Not Taken” is one of the most human traits to ponder. And you seem to have mastered these trials of life by understanding it’s an opportunity to transform yourself, a “renewed spirit of rebelliousness to survive and thrive.” It is inspiring to read you 😊!
A happy belated birthday, and from the view of your sunset over the ocean (with a cocktail in hand, no doubt), it is great to see you enjoying the escapes from the Quinta and taking in the beauty of life in the areas around you. And I also have to comment on your opening photo ~ beautiful! Enjoy the holiday season, Jolandi.
Thank you for the lovely wishes, Randall. And you are so right about my good fortune to have been able to experience both city and rural life. I definitely count all my blessings, both big and small, even when life gets tough and doubts or regrets plagued my mind. Like you say, life has so many possibilities, and opportunities for transformation and gratitude. May you have a lovely holiday season too. Stay warm! – Jolandi
Jolandi,
Boy did your words resonate with me. We live in the city, and sometimes I just can’t take the noise. I grew up in a very small town, and as a teenager, I couldn’t wait to get out, to explore the world. Now as I have gotten older, I long for the tiny town, and we just spent three days there watching it snow, and listening to the silence which is exactly what my soul needed.
Your slice of heaven is gorgeous. Like life, we always long for something different and the goals you and Michael set and have achieved most people don’t. Enjoy your time with him, and the barn looks amazing.
Happy Holidays,
Terri
Thanks so much, Terri. Michael is having fun sorting out his workshop space, and building work benches. We are still waiting for some shelves that we ordered weeks ago. Fingers crossed it will arrive before he leaves.
I love how your experience of growing older and yearning for silence reflects my own. I’m glad that you managed a little getaway, and hope sincerely that you will find more of these escapes in the near future. Happy holidays to you and your family. – Jolandi
There’s something about the of the year that makes us contemplate what went before. But you’re absolutely right, we have to remember to live for those everyday moments, because in the end, that’s what makes up a life.
Noise pollution is real. I used to want to go to Cairo, Egypt, but then I heard it has the highest noise pollution of any city. This was years ago, so who knows if that’s still the case. I get very agitated by the noise of SEA and often keep windows closed, but thankfully, I’ve got plenty of bird chirping around me, too! The silence you enjoy is, indeed, a blessing. xo
I’m glad to hear that you have birds chirping around you too, Lani. The silence I enjoy is indeed a blessing, and one I do not take for granted. One day in the city, and I am ready to head back to the quinta. – Jolandi
I too remember the feeling of excitement when I moved to a much bigger city for my college years. But now, I often dream of the quietness of the countryside. I can’t believe the quinta has been with you for seven years! And yet you are still dealing with the bureaucracy. No wonder you often feel frustrated! But I’m glad to know that you remain hopeful. A while ago I realized no matter how much care I have taken for my apartment, there will always be something that suddenly breaks and doesn’t work properly. But it’s a microcosm of life itself, isn’t it? What actually happens to us might be wildly different from how we had pictured things to be. Wishing you a relaxing end of 2024, Jolandi!