through rose colored panes of glass

June 24, 2008 at 5:54 AM

I close my eyes to the sound of a familiar symphony, not one made up of violins, cellos, trumpets and timpani, but one of the world around me. I am the conductor, each step placed softly, a new soundscape exposed. The luminescent breeze rustles gently through the tree branches towering high above. My eyes still closed, I hear the breeze soaring above me long before it finally reaches my face bringing with it the sweet smell of spring blossoms. I take another step, the trees still serenading me as I slowly wind my way down the path. In the distance the echo of a child's voice cries out, "mommy, mommy! Wait for me!" I continued on, the gentle patter of her tiny feet fading into the distance accompanied by the her small, delicate voice. A new movement begins now, the wind shifts slightly, a new timbre resonates from the bark of the trees and skips playfully across the water. Swirling, rippling, the drink laps against the shore peacefully, unobtrusively. This is paradise. I find an accustomed stone and perch precariously on it's cool smooth surface, the dimming sun warming my face as it fades into the distance building a palette of inexhaustible colors each melding into one another on the sky's limitless canvas. I don't have to open my eyes to know what's in front of me but I can't help but watch as the sun disappears into undulating water. As the sun says "farewell" and the moon says "good evening" an entirely texture is painted across the heavenly canvas of sky. Stars, like beacons, twinkling in the distance guide those at sea and inspire wishes to those who spot them first. The breeze wisps across my face once more, it's coolness surprising. Reluctantly I move from my resting place and with my head turned towards space, I wander off. Until tomorrow, the rest is up to my imagination.

From Tom Holzman
Posted on June 24, 2008 at 6:25 PM

It is always good to take some time to smell the roses. Keep it up!

From Pauline Lerner
Posted on June 24, 2008 at 11:30 PM

That's beautifully written, Kelsey.

I used to do something similar when I spent weekends in an isolated, beautiful, and QUIET rural area. I would sometimes sit and listen to the night fall. I noticed the change in air currents and the air beginning to have small, cool breezes, but the birds heard it and started singing just a fraction of a second before I sensed it. I could hear grass softly rustling and, as time went by, I could hear nocturnal animals come alive. There were many small insects speaking softly and a loud chorus of tree frogs (peepers). blessing. I could even hear my clothes rustling as I walked, and the sound seemed intruding. The sound of silence is a wonderful thing. Being there was like being in heaven on earth.

Because you are a musician, you are more aware of sounds than other people are. I've read about someone who takes a small class of school kids out for a walk around the block to practice listening. They are not allowed to talk, and the are encouraged to keep listening. When they come back to the classroom, they write down what they heard. This experience is supposed to help them when they learn to sing or play an instrument.

Your other recent posts sounded like you were quite depressed, and this post sounds a lot more positive and gentle I hope that you're feeling better, too.

From Pauline Lerner
Posted on June 24, 2008 at 11:55 PM

What you and I are describing could be considered Nature's evensong.

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through rose colored panes of glass

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