The day was bight and quiet or so I thought. I didn’t slip or slide when I reached the path, which was no longer muddy, but covered in a thin layer of white. The mud underneath was frozen it gave slightly as I walked; foot prints from yesterday were set in place. The beige grass waved in a greeting.
Uriah kept whining at my side until I reached in my pocket and gave him one of his biscuits. Then he heard a sound and took off in the trees.
I walked quickly around the path, alone; my thoughts of a warm cup of coffee waiting for me in the kitchen stopped me from enjoying this moment.
I dragged my feet around trees and under the bushes. I hurried past the dip in the ground, used as a runoff from flood waters; today it was empty, except for dried foliage strewn around. Rocks and dirt spilled out of the muskrats burrows, frozen and covered in snow.
I stepped into a pile of snow covered leaves. Sounds changed at that point. I heard the squeak of packed snow as I walked and the crisp sound of the leaves hidden under that snow.
I stopped took off my knit hat and looked up into the sky, and listened.
A breeze, soft, and easy drifted around my legs and into the tall grass. Then it rustled along the ground, picking up speed, until the air moved in a sweeping fashion, and shifted upwards.
My eyes were drawn to the tops of four trees; they still had a few dried leaves clinging to the top most branches. They glistened with ice and rustled, the sound rose, then drifted to silence as the wind moved on across the fields.
I closed my eyes and waited. Listening patiently for…?
I heard the wind moving towards me in a billowing roll. It was if the Maestro had walked up to the podium, raised both hands for silence towards the Orchestra.
Everything stopped! Not a sound! Not a bird! Not a bit of grass moved. Until his hand moved in the downward beat and the Orchestra started playing.
Winds rolled over the fields. Sound amplified and increased in pitch. It was if the wind was given instruction to play, and enticed the birds to join in. They fluttered in the trees, waiting their turn. I imagined fairies and gnomes dancing on that wind.
Trees limbs slipped against each other making sweet, higher pitch sounds of a flute. The sounds whispered, and then stopped. After a few seconds, a melody was taken up by a small bird. His solo ended and the wind gently rustled the dry grass, applauding.
I heard the heavy muffled roll, as a new gust of wind traveled above my head bringing everyone into play.
Then silence… I whispered to the wind, “Bravo.”
I heard Uriah fussing about in the trees, I called for him. “Uriah, you’re that one person in the audience that won’t be quiet”
He ran out at me, and promptly sat at my feet.
“To late the concert is over.”
I headed back to the house, no longer in a hurry…Picture from: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Vzevolozhsky%27s_costume_sketch_for_Nutcracker.jpg