This morning I took a walk in the park near our house.
My mind was yak yak yakking...
so finally I decided to stop and listen...
to all the sounds around me as I walked.
I was walking on the grass next to a cement path by the bay
but the water was so still that I never I heard it.
I first notice the sound of my footsteps on the grass.
And all the different sounds my footsteps make
as the greenery changes under foot...
St. Augustine grass- slightly dry and crunchy,
areas of dried oak leaves- crunchier still,
wide patches of clover with white blossoms- a soft brushing sound,
short delicate ground covers with tiny yellow blossoms- near silence.
The wind blowing gently past my ears...
a soothing sound
very different
than the sound of the wind blowing through palm fronds-
or through the oak trees.
The fisherman scraping the
metal handle
of his net on the seawall as he adjusts it.
A steady multitude of birdsongs,
none of which I could name
other than the seagulls.
A lawn mower in the distance,
gradually louder as I come closer...
slowly fading to a quiet hum as I pass by.
The curiosity of how many sounds I would actually remember.
The sense of the air...
nearer the water,
in the sun,
under the trees...
and wondering
if the different qualities of air
are different frequencies.
A young man jogs passed me on the walking path,
his sneakers padding rhythmically on the cement.
A woman jogs past.
Her step is light...
and quiet.
A steady stream of cars
far enough away to simply create a gentle whooshing sound as they pass.
The awareness at a certain point that I have fallen into my thinking again and am no longer listening- and then... the most beautiful voice of a young woman greeting me as she and her husband and child pass by me on their walk.
That's all I remember...
My mind was yak yak yakking...
so finally I decided to stop and listen...
to all the sounds around me as I walked.
I was walking on the grass next to a cement path by the bay
but the water was so still that I never I heard it.
I first notice the sound of my footsteps on the grass.
And all the different sounds my footsteps make
as the greenery changes under foot...
St. Augustine grass- slightly dry and crunchy,
areas of dried oak leaves- crunchier still,
wide patches of clover with white blossoms- a soft brushing sound,
short delicate ground covers with tiny yellow blossoms- near silence.
The wind blowing gently past my ears...
a soothing sound
very different
than the sound of the wind blowing through palm fronds-
or through the oak trees.
The fisherman scraping the
metal handle
of his net on the seawall as he adjusts it.
A steady multitude of birdsongs,
none of which I could name
other than the seagulls.
A lawn mower in the distance,
gradually louder as I come closer...
slowly fading to a quiet hum as I pass by.
The curiosity of how many sounds I would actually remember.
The sense of the air...
nearer the water,
in the sun,
under the trees...
and wondering
if the different qualities of air
are different frequencies.
A young man jogs passed me on the walking path,
his sneakers padding rhythmically on the cement.
A woman jogs past.
Her step is light...
and quiet.
A steady stream of cars
far enough away to simply create a gentle whooshing sound as they pass.
The awareness at a certain point that I have fallen into my thinking again and am no longer listening- and then... the most beautiful voice of a young woman greeting me as she and her husband and child pass by me on their walk.
That's all I remember...