I have always remembered something the late Larry Hart wrote about summer.

Larry, who used to write about politics and history for The Gazette, recalled childhood walks near the General Electric Co. “The locusts were singing loudly in the trees along the bank that summer,” he wrote, “but our childish fancy thought they were sounds of ‘electricity’ coming from the works.”

What a neat analogy! Bugs have already started to hum in my Albany neighborhood, and I appreciate their songs as one of the more agreeable sounds of the season. There are a few others. A good thunderstorm, a gentle rainfall and church bells in the distance are constants during June, July and August.

I wish there were more. But summer brings more noise — more obnoxious noise — than any other season. Here’s my list, starting with major and working down to minor annoyance.

* Motorcycles: I can live with the recreational, law-abiding motorcyclist. I can’t stand the guys who screw around with their bikes to make them obnoxiously loud. You can hear them coming a few streets away, and after they buzz by your house, you can hear them going a few streets away.
One cyclist I know says some guys need sound from their bikes because it lets other motorists know they are nearby. I can see the point, I’m not complaining about them; I’m talking about crumbs who are loud to be obnoxious. They’ve got to be obnoxious off their bikes, too.
“We can write tickets if we see or hear the violation,” one police officer told me, “but it is tough do anything when someone calls, unless it is a frequent thing, like the motorcycle is from the neighborhood or goes by the same time every day.”

* Leaf blowers: Funny, I hear more of this high-tech noise during the summer than during the fall. You’d think it was the other way around.
The guy who lives in the house in back of mine blows something from the perimeter of his house every other morning. I don’t know if it’s dirt, ants, seedlings — maybe there’s nothing there — but it’s a summer-long scene. Last week, I was riding my bike in the neighborhood and some poor apple was having a hell of a time blowing seedlings down his driveway. Seedlings! A wide broom would have done the job a lot quicker. And quieter!

* Dogs: Don’t know why some people are clueless when it comes to their pets. They dump the mongrels in the back yards and then it’s yap-yap-yap for the next 45 minutes. The canine sees or hears another dog: bark, bark, bark! A squirrel comes into the yard next door: bark, bark, bark! A car honks a horn: bark, bark, bark! Don’t these idiot pet owners hear their dogs? Don’t they understand how many neighbors they are annoying.?
If I know the universal canine language, I’d bark: “If you don’t shut up, I’m sending over a Doberman!”
Unfortunately for me, some dope on the next street — just a house away from the leaf blower — believes his dog must be a concert soloist. The barking is so loud that a guy who lives across the street from me — and two houses up — asked a neighbor if I was the one who owned this idiot dog!

* Lawn mowers: I know there’s a green movement to push battery-powered or electric mowers and replace the big engine and big noise gas superstars. I expect the new models will be quieter.
But you can’t get around cutting the grass. I hear a Briggs and Stratton symphony pretty much all weekend; at least when I mow, I’m fast. My weeds and crabgrass get their trims, front and back, in about 20 minutes.
Sometimes, if I see a neighbor revving his or her mower, I’ll also get out and gas up. I think neighbors would prefer one, slightly louder 20-minute session, instead of the 40-minute double feature.
Too bad we all couldn’t get together and decide one day and one time for lawn duties. Our neighborhood would be full of noise for an hour or so ... but the rest of the weekend would be a bit more peaceful. I can just imagine knocking on my neighbors’ doors, trying to sell this concept.

* Ice cream trucks: At least the loud motorcycles only shake window glass for a few minutes. Ice cream trucks seem to park for a few minutes on one street, then cruise to another nearby street, all with silly, syrupy music that melts brain cells. A truck in my neck of the woods plays some nursery rhyme song, complete with quacks, moos and oinks. I think I’d buy a “Buried Treasure” or a “Nutty Buddy” — maybe both — if the college kid driving the truck would just turn ... down ... the quacks!

* Crows: I prefer quacks over caws. I get them every morning around 5 or 5:30, when the crow contingent begins its daily report. If these birds are so smart, I don’t know why they don’t sleep a little later.

I don’t think I’m leaving any out. If I have, please send me a nice, quiet e-mail note. I’ll add them to the list.