I listened, sound by sound

July 29th, 2009

I squatted beside the tree and closed my eyes. The tree was peaceful and quiet. The cold air blew softly on my face and on the skin of the tree. My feet pressed into the spongy soil which houses the tree’s roots.

I listened, sound by sound – a distant dog, garbage truck grinding and heaving, a raven flying, cawing and fading, wind in the leaves, hum of traffic, chimes soft and beautiful. I heard the sounds of dawn and tried to imagine not hearing them but experiencing their vibrations, as the tree does and as we do too.

I thought of the tree as a freshly planted sapling, maybe fifty years ago, planted by the hands of Trevor Dale, or Mrs Dale, to beautify their new home. Their plan worked.