Tonight I’ve been privileged to witness one of Mother Natures most awesome spectacles.
Not the Northern lights or the migration of Wilder beast on the Serengeti but none the less a phenomenon of epic portions..
Tonight I witnessed Snoring as an art form without a safety net.
There was not a hint of the gentle rhythm, the comforting predictability of breathing I experienced in a fire fighters dorm.
This was as far from melodic as sound can get as long as you don’t put S Club 7 in the mix.
This was the Heavy Metal, flat on your back, mouth wide open gargling with marbles that is very rarely practiced and less frequently witnessed.
This was Punk snoring, thrash snoring, snoring without any reference to tone, key or rhythm.
This was projectile snoring, snoring to dislodge a hair ball.
I marvelled at the way the lower notes were delivered in the throat as a constant, like a deranged Didgeridoo whilst at the same time high pitched whistles and shrieks were sewn into the mix by the sinuses like a lead guitarist in a jazz band, all improvisation with no predictability.
My thoughts slid trough the insane and back whilst I imagined ways of ending this audio orgy.
I gazed at the frying pan still drying on the sink and wondered if one good ‘Thwack’ across the forehead would suffice or whether a more prolonged Reeves and Mortimer type approach would be needed.
I balanced the option of a gentle pillow over the face against the more satisfying fingers around the throat and just when I came to a decision, the decongestant spray started to kick in and this wonder of nature petered out and a calm silence engulfed the van.