There seems to be basically two types of people. Those that feel most comfortable living in or very near the city. The sound of an ambulance and police sirens, barking dogs, people chatter and bus groans are comforting and familiar. These sounds become the lullaby that puts one to sleep.
The second group of individuals needs the sound of the wind in the trees, the final call of a bird and/or the lap of a wave upon the shore to help them unwind and drift off in the evening.
Interestingly enough, I think I like both worlds, and while I favor the latter, I can adjust to the sounds of civilization growing as I drift off to sleep.
Two nights ago, there was a twist on the evening lullaby in the woods. The rains had deposited almost three inches by the time sunset (which we could not see) arrived. The gusting winds broke new growth from the tops of the trees and flung it across the lawns. Leaves danced crazily above our heads. The monotony of the falling rain and gusting wind finally put my husband and I to sleep---almost. Just as we lost consciousness the violent and gutteral sound of an angry animal drifted up to the bedroom window. There was calling like a rusty hinge on a door and deep growls that could only come from a mountain lion. This went on for several minutes and hubby got the spotlight and directed it to the ravine. Someone was clearly not going to sleep until he/she got their way.
The spring shrubbery was full and green and we could not even catch a glimpse of a yellow eye. Finally we went back to bed and the animal sounds subsided.
In the crisp sunny post storm morning as we ate breakfast we talked about the noise. We concluded that we had been listening to a territorial dispute between two male racoons. Nasty it was and somewhat frightening. But I guess I can get used to that as I have gotten adjusted to everything else...except a baby's cry.