April 14, Newburgh. Listened to the morning birds through the open window until the rhythmic honking of a car alarm went off at half past five, not particularly loud, but steady, for an hour. Sometimes it sounded like someone was trying to yank the horn out of the car or muzzle it, but they couldn’t. When the horn finally stopped for good at six-thirty, I was awake enough, and the birds largely silenced.

In the afternoon, as I lay down for an hour, a revival preacher, just quiet enough that you couldn’t understand a word except an occasional djeezes, and just loud enough that you could follow the usual passion. Unclear if someone was blasting the neighborhood with an amplifier from their own backyard, or if there is an actual church around here.