Giving it Large
This is Jenga, giving it large. The chooks have discovered they get a better view from on top the fence and there they were all in a row.
Sorry about the quality of the sound, I took the video from my front room.
It's funny, but I didn't realise how much I missed the sound of roosters crowing until I moved out to Z's. It's an everyday sound I grew up with. I remember as a small girl waking up in the middle of the night and peering out my bedroom window. I could hear the roosters crowing in the darkness enthusiastically calling for the dawn. They were over-achievers, they would start crowing at least a couple of hours before light.
Tropical days and nights are noisy. The day shift will be roosters, dogs barking, the sound of traffic and a myriad of birds calling, including parrots and macaws squawking, not to mention crickets and lizards. The night shift belongs to frogs and toads of all sizes. The big ones doing their baritone belching, the littlest ones, no bigger than my thumbnail, sound like tiny bells, but incredibly loud, so loud you can hear them on the other end of the phone.
The thought of a neighbour complaining about a cock crowing in the morning to a Trinidadian, would have them in peels of laughter.
Dogs have free run of gardens and the general assumption is they bark. My brother's neighbour's GSD's when they hear sirens of any kind, join in with their howls at any time of night or day.
I remember on one of Boy's trips out there he turned around and whispered to me "Mummy, why is that man shouting?" I had to explain that he wasn't: that was his normal volume and he wasn't angry.
In the winter, I find the UK oppressingly quiet. I miss the wildlife sounds. I suppose this is why I love Jenga's crowing so much. It's that little bit of my childhood brought forward into my present.