This morning, we are going to take a look at my physical world. It has a musical quality with a troupe of dancers…
The glass of the picture window is cool to my touch, and I know that soon the trees of my mountain top will be dancing. They have already begin preparing for the festivity. Green leaves seem out of place on the younger trees, as the more mature admonish them for not yet being in costume.
The grand maples and stoic magnolias are ablaze with yellows, golds, oranges and browns, ready to listen to the regaling wind. The tallows are ablaze with the brilliant reds and yellows of the burning fields of chaff. Spruce and pine, laden with cones, stretch their boughs in the breeze. The rustling needles against the cones sound the tuning of the orchestra.
The sun sinks in its tired pursuit of dusk, creating a horizon to match the trees. Its orb muted from its shiny yellow core to its maize and orange flaring edges. The wind stirs the wispy eastern clouds into a blueberry ambrosia of purples and blues with shadowy greys. Quietly at first, the breezes begin the symphony. A plum tree, brilliant in its royal purple, sways softly, the harbinger of the dance to come.
As the second stanza begins, the trees join with their rustling of dried leaves rubbing against the soft needles of the evergreens. An owl mournfully sings aria. Blackbirds flock from tree to tree, wings beating a melody in the strings of the cellos, basses and violas. Whistling, the wind deepens from the fifes and flutes to the brasses and reeds. Soon, its howling will sound of French horns and bassoons.
In the height of the third movement, the synchronicity of the trees reminds all of creative power. On the symbol clash cue of lightning, leaves let go of the trees. With thunder rumbling its bass drum beat, the little urchins swirl around one another in the form of dust devils, frantic against the backdrop of the swaying trees.
Act four brings the unruly back into line. The gentle piano notes of the rain settles the leaves and silences the animals. Bushes gently swish. As the wind whips up the mountain again, the trees join the fray. In a grand crescendo, rain, wind, trees and sky are harmonious in the might of the storm.
The denouement of the final act sees the return of the sun, yawning and stretching its beams across the tired sky. As it reaches its height, it chases the clouds away with the last of the darkness. Birds twitter in the bare branches which exhausted themselves in last night’s final autumn frolic. The trees will soon be asleep, blanketed in shimmering snow, but for today, the chill of autumn is sweet.
James Parsons
/ November 27, 2011Beautifully, put Red. Awsome. It’s magic how you put words together with the wind, rain, and tree’s and come up with this beautiful piece. Well done Red.
annmariedwyer
/ November 27, 2011Thank you!
Bear
/ November 27, 2011Excellent!!!!
annmariedwyer
/ November 27, 2011Thank you! Red.
Androgoth
/ November 27, 2011This is a really nice offering Red and you describe it so well, indeed it has been a lovely read this evening…
Actually I am going to sign out soon as I am playing my PS3, oh yes I am one of the Peter Pan movement that never grows old, never tires of these fangtastic games and at the moment I am playing ‘Rage’ it is set in the future, has many creeps to shoot and is highly recommended if you like a nice blast of a game 🙂
Of course ‘Fallout 3′ is still at my disposal if I choose another futuristic blast ’em up but ‘Rage’ will suffice for the now 🙂 Now if you like Zombies then I suggest ‘Resident Evil 5’ that is full of the un-dead and are just waiting to get creamed, well I will leave this one as is and sign off before I fill your page with my own amusement…
Be Good, Be Wicked and
above all Behave Yourself 🙂 lol
Androgoth XXx
annmariedwyer
/ November 27, 2011Not that I would know anything about that…I tend to play mine on the ‘puter, as it is always near me. (I really must stop sleeping with the blasted thing in the bed, though.) Zombies can be such fun, no?
The way I look at it is this…the more I play, the younger I feel, the better I cope with the minions in my home and life. So, suffice it to say, “Play on, Pan!”
Will be excellent, Always wicked…never behave 😉 Red
awarewriter
/ November 27, 2011This is your ‘other side’ Red, the one that inhales nature and exhales poetry. Thank you.
John
annmariedwyer
/ November 27, 2011You are welcome, McD. I filed it under Poetry, although it does not meet any traditional definition of the word. To me it is poetic though. Aye, my softer side. After all the bashing I have been doing, I thought something tender was befitting. Red.