Shocks to the System

It is very quiet here and a bit chilly.  And... we're feeling maybe a little bit lost, to be perfectly honest.  We expected this, of course.  But, it doesn't make it any easier to adapt.  Yet, adapt we will, because that's what we need to do.

For those who did not know and/or did not catch the blog posts that shared a bit of our recent travels to one of our favorite places in the world (Kaua'i), we will simply point out that we saved up and sent ourselves on a healing trip away from the farm over the holidays.  If you are near the Pacific Ocean, you have the constant sound of waves.  The trees and plants were green and the breeze moved them around, adding that sound to the mix.  And, of course, there were many more people than we typically see at the farm.  In addition to those who live on the island, there were plenty, like us, who were just visiting.  That added up to a fair amount of traffic.

All of those things also added up to a fair amount of sound.  Even when we were at the location below - with no other people in sight - there was the crashing of the waves from the shore to our left, there were birds singing and the sound of the wind blowing through the grasses.

Around here, a normal day might see a total of a dozen vehicles driving by the farm.  There are only two people on the farm, and neither tends to be the "loud" sort.  Sunday was a cold day with very little breeze, so we didn't get much wind-created noise.  There wasn't much sound from birds - except for a crow that decided to go on a "cawing" fit for a few minutes and the hens when we brought them a treat.  It's possible one of the loudest sounds outside after the crow was the crunching of our boots on the snow. 

Don't get me wrong.  There is nothing wrong with silence or quieter locations and times.  It's just the fact that things ARE different between the two places.

On Kaua'i, you are surrounded with the noises of water.  If you are close enough to the shoreline, there is the ever present sound of waves.  In some places, a wave would hit the shore just right and cause a deep "thumping" noise and the spray would fly up and then each droplet would make its own independent sound as it landed on shore or back in the ocean.

The sound of raindrops were fairly common on this trip.  These could be barely more than a mist or it could come down in sheets.  Each type of rain has its own signature tune that would change depending on the surface it was striking.  And then, there were the streams.  Or a puddle as you stepped into it.  And the waterfalls.

We are familiar with the sounds of  the outdoors on our farm too.  In the spring, we will hear birds all day and katydids, frogs and crickets all night.  Nature - and the country - can have plenty of sound.  

So, it is the variable that is human population density that might be one of the biggest differences.  On Kaua'i we were constantly seeking ways to not be surrounded by people.  And, we did a decent job of achieving that goal.  When we are on the farm, we often have to seek out contact with humans if we want it.

And, of course, there are plenty of other reasons to have to adjust.  We don't expect to see any rainbows on the farm any time soon.  We're not likely to want to go on hikes every other day either.  Going outside in Iowa in January requires a fair bit of preparation.  On Kaua'i, we did not have to put on quite so many layers of clothing, that is for certain.  And, of course, we did not have to worry about farm chores for a while too.

Then there's this.  It was rainy and the temp was around 70 degrees Fahrenheit at 11pm in Lihue.  Our weather station at the farm recorded a low of -11 for our first night back.

All in all, I think we can be forgiven if we have to make a few adjustments and I think it would be understandable if we grumbled a bit about a few things.  But, it's actually pretty hard to grumble because we realize how good it is that we can take a trip like this.

Here's to adjusting and listening to the quiet.