Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, July 4, 1993 TAG: 9307010380
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-2 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE: STEVE KARK
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
Our nearest neighbor's about a half-mile away, as the crow flies, so there's really little else to see or hear but what's living in the trees around us.
On clear nights after a rain, though, the night sounds sometimes carry from a long way off. For instance, on those nights we can faintly hear trucks downshifting over on Virginia 100 or trains whistling as they approach the crossing at Castle Rock. But those sounds come as little more than a whisper.
An old romantic like me would find them more appealing - suggesting, say, the call of the open road - than annoyance.
Occasionally we hear dogs barking, but not so it would disturb us. Besides, who could blame them? Like us, they're used to the quiet. So when they hear something carried on the wind, it sets them to barking.
On the other hand, when we had a place in town, our nearest neighbor - a stone's throw away - had a beagle that was driven to a regular frenzy by the abundance of noise in that place.
The little demon had a howl that sent shivers up your spine, like fingernails on a blackboard. It drove us nuts because he became the only thing we heard all night long.
Out here, these things - the barking, the train whistles, the trucks on the highway - hardly register unless you really listen for them. They're too distant.
What we hear most are crickets and frogs in the bottom and sometimes a mockingbird or an owl calling from the trees up the hollow.
I recently read a magazine article that said sounds become annoying when they reach 50 to 70 decibels. For reference, rustling leaves reache about 10 decibels, a power mower about 100 and a taxiing jet 150.
A mosquito buzzes at about 40 decibels, and busy traffic hammers your hearing at around 80 decibels.
That being the case, nights out here in the hollow probably register somewhere between 10 to 40 decibels, the difference in whether it's breeze or bugs in the trees.
The same article says that continued exposure to sounds in the annoying range can cause nervous behavior.
Now that shouldn't surprise anyone. It certainly explains some of the driving I've seen around town. Who hasn't felt that nervous adrenaline rush pulsing through 5 o'clock traffic?
I've noticed that some people become conditioned to the noise, though we never could. Some are uncomfortable with the relative stillness of our country evenings.
For instance, we've had people visit who were troubled by the absence of their familiar town noise, rather than being soothed by our evening calm.
"How can you stand it out here?" they said, gazing into the darkness around the house, as though crickets and frogs were vampire bats.
But people out this way like the peace and quiet. It's one of the best parts of country living.
Coming home after dark, I've seen folks sitting out in the yard talking quietly among themselves and listening to the night sounds as though there was nothing better in the world.
And really, from where we sit, there isn't.
You can have all the racket that comes with living in town. We'll take our evenings in the country, vampire bats and all.
Steve Kark is an instructor at Virginia Tech and a correspondent for the Roanoke Times & World-News. He writes from his home in scenic Rye Hollow, in a remote part of Giles County south of Pearisburg.
by CNB