WH finally picked up his new hearing aids earlier this week. The difference to him is immense. He can't believe just how many little things he can now hear again. Perhaps a rowdy children's party was not quite the best place to wear them for the first time but he didn't need to remove them or turn the volume down and no-one noticed he was wearing them until pointed out to them. All in all they seem to be a success.
Later that same evening we went to look at a small parcel of land which is for sale locally. Mostly mixed woodland, there are some redundant buildings and a pasture which floods in winter, a haven for local wildlife. We soon realised that buying this would not be the dream we had thought it might be, noise from the motorway some 7 miles distant seemed to funnel up the valley and broke through the silence. A minor road above the fields also echoed loudly and WH with his newly acquired hearing deemed it far too noisy.
Nevertheless we walked the pathways and and enjoyed the warm evening listening to the numerous local birds, joined by a brace of pheasants who were roosting in some rhododendron bushes. As dusk fell another tune began. Two nightingales in adjacent trees struck up a conversation and sang their sweet song in the falling light. We stayed the best part of an hour listening to them until we were forced to leave, driven by the falling light and the need to negotiate some rough ground in poor light.
It had been a magical hour, the stillness, the unspoilt ground and the amazing song of the unseen birds. WH told me that he had not heard sounds like that for the best part of 20 years. I was stunned and momentarily felt empty as the realisation of all that he had had missed hit me like a thunderbolt. At least with his new aids he can begin to make up for that loss. Then as if to celebrate two blackbirds joined in and the road noise was obliterated as we left the site to a finale played by a quartet of the loudest birds even I had ever heard.
Nevertheless we walked the pathways and and enjoyed the warm evening listening to the numerous local birds, joined by a brace of pheasants who were roosting in some rhododendron bushes. As dusk fell another tune began. Two nightingales in adjacent trees struck up a conversation and sang their sweet song in the falling light. We stayed the best part of an hour listening to them until we were forced to leave, driven by the falling light and the need to negotiate some rough ground in poor light.
It had been a magical hour, the stillness, the unspoilt ground and the amazing song of the unseen birds. WH told me that he had not heard sounds like that for the best part of 20 years. I was stunned and momentarily felt empty as the realisation of all that he had had missed hit me like a thunderbolt. At least with his new aids he can begin to make up for that loss. Then as if to celebrate two blackbirds joined in and the road noise was obliterated as we left the site to a finale played by a quartet of the loudest birds even I had ever heard.
2 comments:
Wonderful sound.
We went again over the weekend, just to listen. This time we spotted one in the top of a beech tree. Marvellous.
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