THE NAPA ROOSTER

By Danna Shirley
As told by her sister, Paula

Napa is truly in a beautiful valley for you can top the surrounding area and look down to see hills and mountains all around. It is a rich but quaint community of wineries and vineyards. Everywhere you turn, even in the side yards of homes, you can find small patches of vines being cultivated for wine.

            I had just moved into my new home nestled at the dead end of a flag driveway at the foothill of Mt. George in the Vichy area of Napa. It was a beautiful estate on two acres with lots of shade trees. I had even glimpsed deer grazing along the fence line of the property.

All of my trips delivering boxes and furniture had been during the late morning hours and into early afternoon. Now I was finally going to spend my first night in the country. It was a balmy evening so I left the windows open to enjoy the breeze and the sounds of the night crickets and mockingbirds. The air was fresh and sleep was sweet until a strange and annoying sound woke me at five in the morning. Ureech, shuggah, ureech, shuggah, ureech, shuggah!

It was destroying my picture perfect life and dust was clouding the clear sky. I jumped up and looked out the window. What was that awful sound that was stirring up such a raucous? I searched through the haze but could see nothing. The sound continued faintly until it was gone. Good! Wonderful! I went back to bed and slept peacefully for another two hours.

The next morning repeated as before. Ureech, shuggah, ureech, shuggah! I put the pillow over my ears until it faded and decided I would not spend another night without investigating this spectacle. As I made the rounds to meet some of my neighbors, they all remarked, “Oh, that’s just the Napa Rooster. You’ll get used to it.”

What is the Napa Rooster I wondered? It sure didn’t sound like a rooster. What happened to the old, familiar cock-a-doodle-doo?

I decided to be on the ready the next morning and finally get a look at this Napa Rooster. Five o’clock arrived and I was peeking over the back fence at the rows and rows of grapevines. There was a faint, red something down the valley behind my house. Slowly it approached and the ureech, shuggah became louder.

Ah, yes, there it was, appropriately named . . . THE NAPA ROOSTER, driving up and down through the rows of vines, ureech, shuggah, ureech, shuggah.