Yesterday morning, however, it was not. The prairie was alive not with the sound of music but with the sound of traffic. In a 500+-acre preserve, several hundred yards from the nearest road, the background roar was such that I found myself unable to concentrate on enjoying one of my favorite places. The same was true when I left the prairie trail for the woods, where the wind in the trees often muffles traffic noise.
But not yesterday. The urban park felt more urban than park.
In recent weeks I have become progressively more annoyed with machine noise. Second Street, where I live in an often-seemingly-idyllic small town that regularly appears on places-you-have-to-visit lists, is not a truck route, but Third Street is, and the bridge on the cross street carries truck traffic to the factories and injection wells on State Route 7. (Some times of the day, walking the street that leads to the bridge is not a good idea because the diesel fumes are so overwhelming that a bronchodilator is necessary, but that is a different rant.) The recent fracking boom has led to increased traffic and of course increased noise. Porch-sitting, one of my favorite outdoor non-activities, is no longer a joy. You can't yell "Get out of my neighborhood!" to a brine truck, and those big engines can only be quieted so much. Even the sounds of ordinary cars leave me irritable these days.
So I took advantage of a few days with nothing scheduled to get away. Unfortunately, my favorite northwest Ohio park was no haven, sitting as it does between three busy roads. However, Lucas County is full of parks, so off I went to another several miles outside of town where the roads are much less busy than they are in the city.
There, a park employee was using a gas-powered leaf blower to remove approximately twenty-five leaves from the extensive walkways surrounding the parking lot and nature center. He had hearing-protection equipment. I did not.
But at least I had remembered my inhaler.
