In the darkness, in the bush night sounds symphony, so  softly fills the air. Small chirping and crickets along with the trickling sound of the creek down in the sudden slots of the sandstone. Sandstone carved through with centuries of floods and rains in the days and the nights. There is the dark cool air sound sounds smoothly from rock to rock through the twisted moonlit trees and land animals and forms spring into the imagination.  For the real animals are not wild here.  The slugs and snails and invertebrates and mosses and lichens and the flying silent moths.   Through that dark scariness the silent silent swish of the frogmouth flying past.  So still on a branch as to become the branch until that branch starts to make that hypnotic frogmouth………. houm… houm…houm…houm…houm…Houm…houm…houm………like an overlay. Like a meditative trance echo impossible to locate from the bird sitting so still the air moves more the he does. Then silently down to capture the little snail or slug iridescent in the moonlight.  And then on like the quiet bird of prey in the not so quiet still of the night.

Tawny Frogmouth Call 

photo: christolograph/flickr – copyright