In Bourne, many beautiful, even bucolic areas remain to entice people this Memorial Day, yet some parts of town have more unique attributes. I live in one such area, the Roosterville section of Cataumet.
Everyone should visit Roosterville for the pure auditory enjoyment of the incessant cries and opera-like decibel stretching notes of roosters. The high and varied warbling calls can be enjoyed from daybreak until dusk.
These diligent birds call to each other in a declarative language of domination and challenge, bragging perhaps about harems of hens charmed and proudly serviced, but always warning other roosters to stay away or be mauled.
Caged apart from each other, the roosters vibrate with belligerence. Supposedly denied a true cockfight, they constantly call to one another in screeching notes of defiance and pride.
Other areas of Cataumet have horses, which whinny sometimes but don’t have studs fighting over the herd, while those living near the water must endure the constant lapping of waves, which are only aroused to noise occasionally by the wind. But Roostervillians know the proud roosters will issue high octave challenges every few minutes, every day, in every season. Roosterville also includes cranberry bogs, which provide reverberating echoes from unseen corners, like sounds from a prizefighters ring.
In times past there were many farms here, but it was largely quiet, even peaceful.
Unless breeding chicks, it isn’t necessary to have roosters to have egg-laying hens. Yet unlike the practical farmers of the past, some now have empathy for and an apparent appreciation of the unneeded roosters and their aggressive natural skills.
Not constrained by notions of duty fulfilled at sunrise, these feathered orators take to the stump from dawn to dark, denouncing each other while declaring dominance in chest throbbing cacophonies of sound, as boxers boasting before a fight.
Anyone can enjoy the Roosterville symphony. Just put the window down and drive along County Road between the lovely, white United Methodist Church and the intersection of Long Hill Road. But for the full, majestic effect, park somewhere in-between to enjoy the crescendo of roosters crowing, one after the other, in tremulous point to screeching counterpoints.
This hidden Bourne gem could be a tourist attraction, where people come to enjoy the chorus if not the show, yet have the ability to drive away when tired. Everyone is invited.
V. Michael Bradley