Wind blows leaves across your path as you step through a formerly shaded riverside park on a mild September afternoon. The light that was once blocked by the trees in full plume peers through the now nearly bare branches, though it is dulled by the clouds. Completely aware of all surroundings nothing is hidden, except for the grass found under beds of dead leaves. Your pace, albeit steady, is delayed; this is nothing of concern. In fact, you find it pleasing. You’re in no rush. At particular intervals you quicken your step, but soon find yourself back in that steady saunter. You’re in no rush, nor do you want to be. The sounds of nature are eclectic and pass through your ears with the poise one can only find in the step of a dancer. The birds, the breeze and the faint bustle of city life.
An occasional bark from a playing dog doesn’t disturb, rather it finds its place within the whole. It’s the wisp of the wind that stands out in your ear. Often soft but sometimes harsh, though as not to harm but rather to assert itself as the dictator of the scene. It can make a hot day cool or a calm storm hectic. There’s an aura, the faint memory of an Indian summer balanced with the frigid expectation of the oncoming winter. One may mistake the feeling for depression but they would surely be missing out on the delight that lays within the heart. Melancholic by design, this day doesn’t drag, it passes with ease and you’re left to desire another one of the same.
By the way…
The Wooden Sky’s latest effort Every Child a Daughter, Every Moon a Sun is out now on Black Box Recordings and can be heard when the band plays Amigo’s Cantina on March 30th with the Sunparlour Players.