We have a smell thread, how about sounds?

Jessie

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Thinking about familiar smells and memories made me think of sounds I also like.
The tree frogs in a spring rain, that same rain falling on the roof when I'm dry inside. Most any bird song. The dogs barking when my wife comes home. My tractor purring as I cut the field. The sound of sharpening a knife on a stone. And the silence during a snow.
Just some of the simple sounds I like.
 
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Elk bugling, the wind in the canyon, coyotes calling to each other, babbling brooks and rushing rivers, a raven flying overhead, the fire popping as the water boils to make coffee and a symphony of chorus frogs to fall asleep to. My mother saying, "Nice deer. Now go back and get the liver." :) Basically the sounds of hunting with my family.




Oh, and Pink Floyd.
 
I love the look on petty thieves faces when I jack the slide on a model 97 shotgun!

The sound of a infant granddaughter asleep on my belly!

The sound of kids making "Smores" on a camp fire.

My gold medal winner: Sitting in a meadow on a summer's night Watching the stars race across the sky while the crickets sing their greatest hit!

Ivan
 
Spring, it is the insects and birds growing active and making noise.
Summer, who cares. I hate summer unless it is the sound of trout slurping hatched insects. But I still hate summer.
Fall, elk, bugling bulls with the breeze rustling the aspen leaves.
Winter, Canadian geese. I no longer hunt water fowl but their call tells me it is my favorite time of year.
This year we have a diversion. A new grandson is due in August. I cannot wait to hear his babbling voice when he is content.
 
A lot of great sounds listed here. Gun fire off in the distance is good. Coyote calls, and even better, howling wolves.
 
The ocean.

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Thinking about familiar smells and memories made me think of sounds I also like.
The tree frogs in a spring rain, that same rain falling on the roof when I'm dry inside. Most any bird song. The dogs barking when my wife comes home. My tractor purring as I cut the field. The sound of sharpening a knife on a stone. And the silence during a snow.
Just some of the simple sounds I like.

Forgot your kids or grand kids laughing. The older I get & closer I come to going home the more I crave these sounds.
 
Migrating waterfowl
That sure brought back some fond memories!

My hunting partner and I spent the night before duck opener in a 14' boat on the flats of Lake St Clair with our dogs. Water levels were down and there was a lot of hunting pressure, so you needed a really early start to claim a good spot. We launched the boat at 4:30 pm the previous evening and had the boat tucked in a reed bed while it was still light. It was a miserable wait and we didn't get much sleep, but the sound of wings overhead throughout the night had us excited.

As the sun came up, a few shots rang out and the sky literally filled with waterfowl. We had hunted that area for years and never saw anything like it before or since. Migrating flight wings had arrived early and ducks were everywhere! That was the only time we had our decoys picked up and were on our way back to the boat ramp with our limits before 10 am.

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A group of us were camping on a ranch in Wyoming hunting antelope. The ranch was in the high desert near Bill and it was one of our first trips out there. We were standing around camp early one evening and heard a strange noise getting closer closer. We didn't know it at the time, but huge numbers of sandhill's migrate south over that area annually. I guess they're not technically waterfowl, but they sure do make a distinctive racket! We watched countless cranes fly overhead, as far as the eye could see, for probably 20 minutes. My pictures don't do it justice...

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My hunting partner and I spent the night before duck opener in a 14' boat on the flats of Lake St Clair with our dogs.

Dave—this story needs to be written up in all the outdoor magazines—I know some fanatical duck hunters but none that would sleep in a 14 foot boat! You are the hardest core duck hunter of which I have ever heard.
 
The sound of a morning dove during the early morning in a Montana summer day, that and a meadow lark singing its song in the afternoon. They speak of the peace and tranquility of where I am from.

I will never forget this. Bill Rambo, A WWII Pacific Marine, and old time eastern Montana cowboy, who had married my step brothers mother passed. The hearse left the church and headed out to the small town cemetery and as it neared the railroad tracks the crossbar came down, and stopped the procession. A Meadow Lark landed on the cross bar and sang Bill his goodbye song, flew away, there was NO TRAIN, the bar rose and off we went.
 
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Dave—this story needs to be written up in all the outdoor magazines—I know some fanatical duck hunters but none that would sleep in a 14 foot boat! You are the hardest core duck hunter of which I have ever heard.
I was younger then, but it was still hard on the body. My wife and I would hit the opener in Michigan's northern lower peninsula the first weekend in October and my partner and I would hunt the opener the following weekend in southern Michigan. The weather can be pretty nice that time of year and I had a "Doghouse" pop-up deer blind with a zip-out floor and a portable heater, in case it got too cold or rained. We took food, coffee, a deck of cards, a portable radio and tried to make the best of it. We didn't get much sleep, because it was cramped and we had to constantly shine-off other hunters who didn't know we were there and tried to set-up too close.

Waterfowl hunting with dogs is a lot of fun and the dogs just loved it. Identifying the birds in the air, calling them in and working the dogs gets in your blood. I'm too old and soft for that now.

My hunting partner moved out of the area and my older brothers and I started antelope hunting shortly after. Both seasons start the beginning of October and antelope hunting in Wyoming is a lot more civilized than camping out in a boat! You drive around on a 30,000 plus acre ranch, find a buck that you want to take, get within 300-400 yards, toss it into the back of the truck and take it to the processor. We went 12 years in a row and it never took past noon the second day for our party to tag out. We'd spend the next couple days shooting prairie dogs and living the dream!

COVID put the kibosh on last years hunting, but I'm getting my second vaccine next Monday. I don't know what we're doing this fall, but I sure am ready to get back out into the field!
 
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