Twenty eight things I heard on my walk this morning and four reminders.

The first snap to sound was a blue plastic Heinen's grocery bag high up in a oak tree. I enjoyed it's flapping, whapping vibrato sound and thought for a second I might like one up in my  tree. But that's weird and probably would get annoying.

Then I heard an Orthodox Jew in a black hat and black suit phone-walking, "It's the first not the second street where you turn." He scuffed away.

Hearing a bird barrage--cartoon tweets, trills, almost-whistles, Ca-Ca-ing crows, abbreviated chirps--reminded me of how I don't know very many bird names. Next a jet flying overhead that I couldn't see because of cloud cover.

Soon a white passenger van accelerated quickly then coasted. A girl opening a car door shouting, "Hurry up!" toward a house, another girl in curlers bursting through the front door, "All right, all right!" More birds. A once shiny silver now mostly rusty sports coupe misfiring around a corner.

After that a small tan pickup with red plastic over one tail light trying hard to start (I almost heard the guy inside whispering, C'mon!, C'mon!), six cars clacking over a certain crack in the road, my dog's collar jangling and his big nose sniffing just an inch above the ground. Shortly thereafter the sound of his nails scraping on the sidewalk, reminding me that they need cut. A young-sounding dog barking in the distance.

My own nose sniffling, throat clearing, breathing. The sound of my hand across my brow, reminding me that my skin is dry and I ought to use lotion. Somewhere off to my left a siren (probably ambulance, not police). Finally a garage door opening and the creak of neglected hinges.

Inside my house it was quiet, and that reminded me that outside can be noisy.