The Sound

It puzzled me at first. The sound. What is it? It's new. Occasional. Then I went back to reading and tuned it out.

As I ended my reading, I noticed it again. It's still there? The sound had continued for an hour. What could it be?

As I took in today's view of the changing woods outside my large window, I connected the new sound with what I was seeing.

A few weeks ago, I saw little sky through the layers of green leaves. I've seen it slowly change since. Today the blue has tripled to 1/3 of the view with  trunks and branches threatening to release its remaining yellow and green tiny dependents. It's enabled me to see playful birds that were formerly obscured. So many. Different sizes. Gone so quickly. More come.

Oh look, a robin lights upon the smallest of new trees and rocks sideways as a woman comforting a small child on her hip.

The sound. A leaf falls. It hits the crisp floor of those who have gone before it. Crisp hits crisp. As chips in a poker game. This year's rainfall is giving us less color but more sound. A gentle breeze comes and the sound multiplies. Round and round they dance. Swirling. Clamoring. A walk through, now that brings up memories.

A walk through. Can you hear it? Can you feel the weight of them against the top of your shoes and the front of your jeans? Can you see them lifting up and fluttering down as you kick them up? Can you smell their dryness as they turn to dust under your feet?

Yes, I know that sound. It just took awhile.

Bless and be blessed,
Bobbie