Night Noise

The Saga Of Black Dell. Ran the AC from four yesterday afternoon until midnight. Took a nap in there somewhere, woke up to pee, opened the windows, got a wee dram and rolled a smoke. The usual cacophony. Nighttime in several layers. Quiet, otherwise; still enough that I can hear leaves falling in threes and in twos. No wind. Somewhere in the middle distance, a tree falls, giving up the ghost. It's a slow sound, and unmistakable. Ripping and tearing then a satisfying thump. I might not find the tree until winter, when I'm back in the woods, because I couldn't tell you from which direction the noise assaulted the night. If it's on the driveway, I'll see it and have to deal with clearing the way. Spent the day reading about the cave at Chauvet. Since it wasn't discovered until 1996 they took great care in the excavation. I love this cave, I've looked at hundreds of photographs, studied the maps. There is a child's palm-print deep inside, so someone had to carry the infant, someone else had a torch, someone else had his old kit bag, with pigment and vehicle. This is serious business. And we wanted her hand-print why exactly? Also, deep in the cave, there were footprints AND there was a lot of charcoal from the various lighting devices. As a sidebar I'm doing a study of stone lamps using animal fat with wicks I've twisting from various fibers. There are footprints on the floor, 30,000 years old, and they clearly show a young kid running around. 'You guys just amuse yourself, while I paint a bison on the wall.' Chauvet is so cool because it is the most modern, and it's the oldest, which means that 50,000 years ago there had to be language. Nouns first, then verbs, slowly, as needed; the earliest adjectives related to the state of the carcass, could you eat it or not. 'Over the hill' is a concept known in every language. I wish I had the digestive system of a coyote. It's hard, actually, being human. We have such a narrow band of influence.