My backyard inspires many of my columns. This year, after adding a room on our house, I have begun to contemplate it a bit differently. Several large, new windows now frame my yard. With all the activity out there, it's like watching a huge TV screen. Still, I have to say my backyard remains an enigma. . . it's a constant yet it's constantly changing. Last weekend provided the first few days I could open all the windows. This brought a fresh realization: my backyard has its own melody. I'm not kidding, there is music in the yard, and it changes hour by hour, day by day, and month by month.

From my childhood, I definitely remember becoming aware of backyard rhythms. We learned how to estimate the summer night's temperature by listening to crickets (count the number of chirps in 15 seconds and then add 37). Today, the night sounds in my backyard are probably my favorite. I love to hear the owls with their gentle hoots. I frequently get the urge to offer a human imitation in return. I think several owls have called back to me. The mockingbird, with it full repertoire, keeps my ears attentive on summer nights.

With heightened awareness that my backyard is home to a full-fledged ensemble of captivating sound, I have started listening to the ebb and flow of the "music." If I'm lucky enough to wake before dawn, I wait for the first bird call to break the night's stillness. It might just be a robin that starts the day's chirping. Then in a matter of minutes the whole feathered chorus seems to be welcoming the rising sun - sparrows, chickadees, and cardinals filling the air with melodies. Mourning doves' lilting coos brighten any day. It's easy to become inattentive to nature's serenade until the cawing of crows, sweet soprano trill of a house wren, or a percussive woodpecker commands midday attention.

If your neighborhood is like mine, barking dogs add to the backyard symphony. Ours can suddenly rival the Vienna Choir Boys when emergency vehicles enter the vicinity. Let a siren sound in the distance and one dog will begin a soft wail. Slowly, each dog adds his voice until all octaves are covered by earnest howls. Nattering squirrels are frequently part of nature's daily soundscape. And not to be outdone, breezes blowing tree leaves add still more dimension to a free, totally original backyard score.

Even the bees buzzing from flower to flower and menacing hum of mosquitoes as I'm gardening remind me of how musical my yard is. Then there are momentary surprises like sudden silence in the middle of an afternoon that tells me there must be a hawk nearby, causing all birds to vacate. I get amused by a shuffling in the hostas that tell me a chipmunk is making its rounds, but I groan at night when I hear rustling of raccoons coming to free-load at bird feeders.

Next time you open your window or step out in your backyard, stop and listen. . . your own symphony may be in progress.