It's Spring! Sort of.Within days of storing cozy winter clothing in favor of t-shirts and capris, the temperature plunged. Snow is predicted for this weekend, but that's not stopping forsythia from blooming, star magnolia buds from bursting, or daffodils from trumpeting their arrival.
Nor is it stopping the incessant chirping, not from birds but from apartment-related features.
While I was somewhat rhapsodic about ambient noise in an earlier post, please note the thrill was from hearing the city soundscape. I've never been especially keen on hearing birds. Not only do they get started way too early but during Suburban Captivity I had to hear one singing at night. Either it was a night bird or totally confused by the street lights. In either event, I couldn't stand listening to the thing; generally too tired to go hunt it down.*
I remain too tired to hunt down the chirping ─ within this apartment building.
If it's not one thing, it's another. Now, in addition to being driven (more) crazy by the constant hum of the transformer BGE will neither replace nor soundproof, I'm getting wild-eyed from hearing the chirping of a smoke alarm.
"Oh, it's probably your neighbor's," said the maintenance guy who, as luck would have it, was inspecting all apartments for exactly such things last Friday. In fact, I could hear him testing alarm batteries in apartments above me. Apparently not the one from which the chirping continues to continue.
What I don't get is how residents of that apartment fail to notice the sound. Maybe they think they're hearing crickets? Maybe they're longing for the sounds of Suburban Captivity?
* Yep, not exactly Franciscan by nature and possibly becoming a cranky old chick.
Update! Turns out the chirping was from the vacant apartment below me. New batteries installed. One less hell to answer.
