SYMPHONY FOR WIND AND TREES

As we speed toward autumn, the nights are coming earlier, and the mornings arrive later. The calendar is winding down toward September, and today the air feels as it did when I dressed in plaid and scuffled my way through the leaves on my way to school. There is still a hint of humidity, and the warmth hovers in the comfortable range. The leaves remain green and the last hurrah of summer has yet to sound. But still, it feels as if we are living on borrowed time. There is an urgency to each day to get things done while the good weather lasts. I have the garage to clear, the windows to wash, the patio to clean, and the garden to attend to. And yet, I sit here under my beautiful dogwood and listen to the breeze finger the leaves like a master musician. There are the sounds of industry all around me … workers blowing leaves, dogs rattling leashes, walkers huffing and puffing as they pass, and traffic in endless variety wends its way down the road. But it is as if Mother Nature conducts an orchestral arrangement written for trees, muting all the sounds of human endeavor.

My mother would be so proud of my rationalization to do nothing much while the weather is so fine. To waste such a lovely day on chores seems wasteful. I can always deal with the garage on a rainy day, the windows will just get dirty again once I wash them, and a garden is infinitely forgiving of neglect. So, with all due respect to Father Time, I shall take upon myself the role of audience, and applaud Mother Nature’s, “Symphony for Wind and Trees” as interpreted by Dogwood, Oak, and Yew.