Originally Posted by jaguartx
Originally Posted by Okanagan
Kids playing while I dozed on the couch before supper. If my wife had them be quiet and not bother me I would wake up immediately.

Here's a grandson playing his fiddle on a wild Pacific shore while being filmed by his brother's drone. He'd been playing for a year at that point. Jump to 2:14 for a sample.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ROivfvyP6w

Good sounds (we can mention) beyond kids and grandkids sounds:

The close-by sigh of a whale spouting in a grey dawn when fishing for salmon on a calm sea.

Trout rising to a bug hatch

An broadhead arrow hitting meat

A cougar whistle as it approches a calling stand

Elk bugle, anywhere anytime

Moose grunt across a still lake


You sound like the kind of guy i need to get to know.

Arrow popping ribs. How do you spell crrraack and thwack at the same time.

When i thought of this thread i thought about the bulls bugle and i remembered a week long back pack into the mountains east of Valleceto Res in Co. 4 years and i had never killed a bull elk with a rifle. I had taken a 4x4 with a bow years before.

I was down in the dumps after climbing the ridge a mile from bivouac at the crack of dawn. I had found fresh sign on the ridge the afternoon before. I had retraced a few trails before daylight to get back there. As it was cracking day i walked into a tent camp with a couple horses staked outside. Tent was on the trail. It was the twilight zone all over again. I couldnt see how i had missed my trail. I said anybody home. A sleepy yeah came back. They had moved in during the night. I went on up the trail 400 yds. Nothing.
I couldnt see going on like this. I sat down and told the Lord i was at the end of my rope. I told Him i needed help. I got to thinking that the season before i had missed hunting and having 2 parts of my lung taken out at Harvards Mass General.
I had been hurting in that lung bad before this hunting trip and after being treated 6 months for a fungal lung infection. I got the results of the latest mri back on Friday afternoon, no tumor, and brother and i headed for Co that afternoon.
I would lay under the nylon tarp at night and hear the click sound come out of my rt lung every breath i took. Takes a while to fall asleep with that.

I got to thinking how lucky i was to be able to be up there with my brother. We could get in thick aspens and see nothing but yellow above and below, the leaves covered the floor, with white trunks marred with black.

I told Him thanks for just letting me be sitting there on that ridge that morning and that i should just be happy with that after all the stress and misery of the year.

When i finished, I sat there a few minutes feeling better. Thats when I heard the bull bugle just a little further up the ridge from me.

Now that was a beautiful sound.

I told Him thanks and donned my stetson.


jaguatrtx that is a great story, and a bit gutsy to tell here. I really enjoyed it.

And thanks to all for the good words about grandson's fiddling on the sea stacks. He's a lot better musician now.