Chickens and death

I usually awake about 6 a.m. I lie there and listen to the chickens.

You likely do not know that chickens — the women chickens, I believe — have a morning sound. It is not the cluck-cluck they make, say, at midday while eating corn. It is a strange, creepy call I cannot put into words.

The women chickens — hens — do this from the neighbors’ tree, which abuts our property wall. The rooster’s call is different, and it comes closer to dawn, mostly. You can never predict chickens with precision.

HenOn occasion, and not as rarely as you might think, the chickens have a musical backdrop in the form of the old church bell when someone is “promoted to Glory.”

When a neighbor dies, the church bell gongs softly all night at intervals of 10 seconds or so. The church is a block and a half distant.

Night before last, I awoke to the complete concert.

Chickens and death.

14 thoughts on “Chickens and death

  1. Ahhhh, Mexico. I remember it well. The land of many noises.
    I hope you are well, Felipe. Get out and enjoy that mild weather. Today we are waking up to frost in Colorado.


    1. Mike: It occurred to me that if the train had simultaneously passed and if my child bride had been snoring (which she never does), I would have had a four-part harmony.


  2. Have you ever thought chickens in Mexico have no abodes? Chickens in Mexico have no set time of day or night to announce their presence hence the rooster crows at 2 or 3 AM in the morning. I find that comforting as no matter what kind of night you are having you are not alone there is always a rooster awake and crowing.


    1. Gin: Never thought about the lack of chicken abodes. I imagine commercial chicken enterprises have them, but you are quite correct that the citizens, many of whom raise chickens, do not bother with chicken houses. That’s why the little buggers next door flap up to the limbs of their apple tree to sing to me.

      Thanks for the feedback. You get a Gold Star.


  3. The Mexicans, God bless ’em, are very tolerant of noise coming from their neighbors. They don’t call the cops to complain.

    My solution to the noise factor is to crank up my stereo and listen to gringo oldies but goodies while I am surfin’.


    1. Andres: The noise drove me bonkers for years. Then I finally got used to it, and it rarely irks me anymore. Of course, I also have quite a stash of silicone earplugs.


  4. Ah chickens. Even in DF, one of the largest cities in the world, one hears chickens. F’s neighbors to the back and a house down live on what is mostly a vacant lot, with a sort of tin shack in the corner. The whole lot is surrounded by a 9′ brick wall. Inside the walls there is a small menagerie, with chickens, a burro, and a few ragged turkeys. The chickens and rooster can be heard at any and all times.

    Nothing like city living.


    Kim G
    Boston, MA
    Where there are no live chickens, and the dogs are all admirably quiet.


    1. Kim: Our apartment in Mexico City is nowhere near chickens, or any other animal for that matter, which is a blessing. Of course, we are there so infrequently nowadays, it really doesn’t matter.

      Congratulations on the admirably quiet pooches in your neighborhood. I envy you.


  5. First off, Nice New Layout!

    We don’t here any chickens here in the land of vacas y burros. Our morning noise comes mostly from the gaaaas! trucks, but rarely before 8 a.m.

    Don Cuevas


    1. Don Cuevas: Yes, I got a hair up my crack this afternoon and decided to rearrange the Moon furniture, stroking my feminine side. But unlike past times, I will make no issue of it. It’s just here in front of us. I like it.

      No chickens to awaken you? Kinda strange.


  6. Well, you haven’t lived until you have geckos all over the place. They lay eggs everywhere. Even the printer. They poop all over the walls. I suppose they have their place but I wish they weren’t so attracted to civilization. And we often have dead, mummified ones show up in the darker spaces. And tormented, dead ones brought as gifts by the dogs and dropped right where we step……barefooted.


    1. Carole: One word, yuck. We have lizards, but they stay outside 99 percent of the time. And they are like elephants. They go somewhere mysterious to die, not within my line of sight.


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