Until I retired, I was unaware of the level of noise in suburbia. I grew up on a remote Connecticut farm, and I expected the suburbs to be quiet, also, except for natural sounds. Wrong.

Chainsaws next door, cutting down a tree (followed by chipper). Up the street, a jackhammer removing a neighbor's cement driveway. Next door, my bipolar neighbor yelling. Someone hammering.

On the other side, my neighbor's parrot chatting with her dog friends, who are a yapping chihuahua and two deep-voiced rottweilers. Today their lawn is being mowed and edged, so add that noise to the mix.

Across the street, there are children playing in the schoolyard (summer school). In the distance, several sirens--there is a fire station about a quarter mile away (a good thing).

But in the morning, about 5:30 or so, there is nothing but me and the birds and the occasional jogger. The quiet of the morning is disturbed only by the birds' conversation, sunrise greetings.

Quiet and cool and peaceful: a blessing.