In all the wind the other evening, a tree fell in the woods, and loads of people heard it, mainly because it smashed the trash enclosure across the way and knocked the top off one of the light posts. It also blocked the road that loops around our complex, and since it was Sunday of a three-day weekend, we had little hope that it would be resolved any time soon.
Everything worked exactly as it was supposed to, and I wish I wasn't so surprised. I am grateful, though.
Every year, I look forward to seeing the Oscar-nominated short films (and most years, I write a thing or two about them, as well- check out the label at the end of this post to see the archive). At any rate, this was the weekend we went to those cinematic anthologies, and as in years past, we saw a reflection of the world's woes. But this year, the angst was rife throughout both the animated and the live-action films; they were ten short movies about worry and stress, and only a couple had clearly uplifting resolutions. The others were ambiguous at best, and I left the theaters feeling a little deflated.
I didn't think I needed a happy ending to enjoy a movie, but maybe these days? I do.
The crows in the woods woke me up at 2 am a couple nights ago. The next morning I remembered the ruckus as if it were a dream, but knowing it was real I searched the internet for reasons that might rouse an enormous murder of crows in the middle of the night. Most suggested the presence of a predator as the most likely scenario, but I couldn't picture it.
Later, I heard a piece on the radio about young birdwatchers and a guide showing some middle school kids around the woods. They were searching for owls. "Just look for a football shape in the trees," he advised, "something that looks a little different." Of course, by the end of the story, the group had spotted a barred owl.
That afternoon, while walking Lucy, I noticed how the sunlight silhouetted the trees so starkly against the blue winter sky. It was beautiful, and I remembered the radio piece from that morning. I had never seen an owl in the wild before, and I wondered if it was because I had never looked. Hundreds of trees were visible from where I stood, and I scanned their boughs eagerly. A football shape presented itself immediately on a branch not far away. Could it really be that easy? I thought, but squinting for closer inspection, I saw it was really just a fat squirrel.
The rest of the walk had the quality of beachcombing but with my neck craned up instead of down. There seemed to be just as many branches as bits of shell on a beach, and who knew what treasure was waiting to be spotted?
I didn't see an owl, but when I got home, I did a little research and found that one telltale sign may be white spatters on the trunk below where the owl roosts. I grabbed my binoculars and stepped out on the deck to scan the trees in the woods. Wondering if it might have been an owl that disturbed the crows the night before, I hoped my chances were good. Across the parking lot, I spotted splashes of white about two-thirds of the way up a pine tree, but the foliage was too dense for me to get a good look, and my compact binoculars were frustratingly shaky.
The most sensible solution seemed to be to order a better pair of binoculars, which I did, along with a rig to help take photos with my phone. Those were delivered yesterday, and although the view through the binoculars is breathtakingly clear, I can't get them to work with my phone. And I still haven't seen an owl.
But I might! Because? Now I'm looking.
I saw a passing reference on social media to "8D sound" and, curious, did a little research. Some sources claim that all those sound channels can expand your brain in miraculous ways, and so I had to get a listen for myself. It had been a while since I had used my AirPods, though, so first, I had to charge them.
Then, when I fit them in my ears, I got a notification on my phone that they had been updated, and not only could I customize them to my ears, I could also take a hearing test and then use them as hearing aids if necessary. The 8D sound had to wait another five minutes while I did the screening. My results were heartening: 11 dBHL in the left and 13 in the right, which, according to the health app, indicates little to no hearing loss.
With that knowledge, it was on to the 8D audio! I found that there was a mixture of binaural beats, instrumental, and cover songs available, and tapping a track at random, I was immediately arrested by the sound. I actually felt surrounded by the music, and all the sounds were clear and balanced. It was remarkable.
A little further investigation revealed that this technology isn't really all that new. The combination of equalization and panning techniques has been around in some form since the 1970s. In the last 5 years or so, though, its purported effect on people with neurodivergent brains has gotten much attention on social media, notably TikTok. That attention has encouraged artists to include more 8D production on their tracks.
As I browsed, I found playlists going several years back filled with familiar songs by artists I certainly knew, and listening to clips from those with my Air Pods, I recognized the grand production value. I guess I just never noticed before.
I returned to my hearing test results and the accompanying chart. There, I could see that I have more trouble hearing higher sounds, which I know is common as you age. I also saw that my hearing is good, but not excellent, and that smarted a little. But what could I do? Nothing, but tap play and listen to a little more superb audio.
Heidi was hoping to have Valentine's Day pencils to give to her students, but we haven't been able to find any this year despite looking in the usual places. Even so, when I told her I needed to make a quick stop at the grocery store this afternoon, she chose to tag along and asked if we could give that pencil hunt one more go.
The grocery store should have tipped us off. Is it possible that I have never been shopping on Valentine's Day Eve? It must be so because I was unprepared for the crowds we encountered.
The produce section was stuffed with extra floral displays, including a makeshift custom arrangement pop-up. Every other endcap had holiday-themed candy, cookies, or cupcakes, and every shopper had some Valentine's Day item in their possession. Meanwhile, the Valentine's Day proper display was wiped out. Gone were the cards and trinkets that children buy in sets of 20 for the kids in their classes. There were also no pencils.
Undeterred, we decided to check out the dollar store across the way. Oh my! First, there was zero parking, so I let Heidi out, and as I circled the lot, I saw a steady flow of folks carrying shopping bags with all manner of pink and red poking out the top, as well as many people trying to manage huge balloon bouquets as they made their ways to their cars through the gusty wind.
When, at last, I found a space and made my way into the store, I found chaos: children running and pushing down aisles lined with empty shelves and a line for the registers that ran all the way to the back of the place. But there were no pencils.
"They probably haven't made pencils since 2020," I laughed once we were back to the car. "It's taken this long to exhaust the existing supply, but somebody somewhere made the call that handwritten work was dead." I was only half kidding.
"Schools need pencils," Heidi scoffed.
"I'm sure someone will recognize that," I agreed. "But by then, there will be a tariff on them. No more cheap pencils for you!"
We got near the maximum amount of snow predicted for the storm overnight, and it was beautiful. A proverbial blanket of white covered the ground, and all the trees were flocked with heavy dollops of snow. School was out, but it was quiet around here, and the snow remained undisturbed for most of the day, even as the temperatures warmed above freezing and the roads were cleared.
Then, just as was also predicted, as night fell, so did the rain. What a difference a few degrees makes! A little colder, and we might have had one of those back-to-back blizzards that February is famous for around here. As it is, the rain is supposed to continue through the night, washing away all the snow, and schools are even opening on time.
