Monday, March 2, 2015

2015 March 2-3: Our Resident Palm Squirrel is Mad

Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp!

Our resident palm squirrel is mad.

Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp!

I mean, really mad.

Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp!

He has been making this noise since about 5am, right about the time the local mosque started calling its faithful to prayer.

Hayya'alas-ṣalāh

I'm not saying there is a connection. Our koel started calling about the same time, as he does every morning.

taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT

Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp!

A new voice enters the fray...

WEEKa WEEKa WEEKa

Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp!

A few cars pass by but something is missing from the usual morning noise of Cemetery Road. Ah! I have it - there are no construction sounds.

Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp!

The dogs start barking.

Arf arf arf.         Arf.

And the crows begin their morning serenade.

Caaaw caaaw.   Caw caw caw.

taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT

Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp!

 taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT

Arf arf arf.         Arf.

WEEKa WEEKa WEEKa

The songbirds join in, and our myna imitates the dogs.

They all seem to be out of sorts this morning, probably due to the torrential rain last night.

Elanor and I had gone to our chapel for a movie night with our congregation. (If you have not seen the movie Baptists at Our BBQ, I highly recommend that you do!) There was a light mist in the air as we left, but by the time we got to Sebastian Road, it was raining. From Sebastian Road to Beach Road a light rain continued to fall. Unlike home, no one here moved. The streets were lined with people standing or sitting around in lawn chairs enjoying the cool rain after a brutally hot and humid day. So hot and humid that it was impossible to tell whether you were sweating or condensing.

By the time we turned down the street that takes us to the alley that takes us to our road, it was torrential. In an instant, the heavens let loose and the streets were flooded. Even inside our tuktuk with the curtains drawn, we were soaked.

By the time we got home, our yard was a lake, our patio stones flooded, our red clay tile roof streaming waterfalls.

We fell asleep to the thunderous crash of lightening, the calling of geckos, the screaming of bats.

Clang clang clang.

It appears the construction workers have returned, several hours later than usual. Normally they work through the cool of evening, into the wee hours of the morning, then begin again as the sun comes up, leaving during the hottest part of the afternoon.

The squirrel has stopped. His world is right again.