Listening, at Craters of the Moon National Park.

When my friend Sue and I were at Craters of the Moon NP at dusk, she was chatting away, and I in my usual bluntness said, “Could you please STFU for a minute?” Bless her, she did, and we both heard an owl hooting into the desert darkness. We followed that plaintive call, as it was repeated every 30 seconds or so, until we stood before a stunted tree. From an innocuous-looking knob on that tree, came that mournful sound.

I’m a talker, I love the sound of the human voice, but sometimes the sound of the inhuman voice is the sound we need to hear.

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