"Shhhh. You hear that?"
It didn't need to be said; we hear it. The frogs. They're making a racket. They always seem to after the sun goes down. They're in the distance so we can hear non-frog communications, too.
We just rolled out of the wooded trail into an unkempt grassy field. We four, on the Dusk to Dawn ride. We've stopped to take in the visual. A partial moon low in the sky, the moonbeams show the rough treeline in the distance. The sky is cloudy and that makes the landscape glow. But what's most consuming, right now, are the sounds.
The tall grass whispers to us that there's a slight breeze tonight. The air feels good and smells of summer. This all calms the scene.
It's so quiet we can hear critters slowly eating the fallen leaves. So much life, hidden from our eyes -- but not our ears.
A teammate's slightly labored breathing rises in the soundscape. We had been picking up the pace because the Dutodari dinner-breakfast is calling to us. It's only about four miles away; we can almost smell the burgers. The growling of someone's stomach gets our group to chuckle, breaking the evening trance.
We stop ourselves, and listen to the almost silence once more. The call of promised food is too strong. It's time to roll through the next dirt sector. Onward to the Dusk to Dawn meal.
We look forward to seeing everyone there.
This is why we ride.
