Pictured Rocks

By
More by this author
Though my surrounding seems as silent and serene as a sleeping baby, the second I close my eyes and open my ears, the sounds of the forest and its inhabitants make up an orchestra, whose sweet, melodic tune is carried from tree to tree and coasts along the damp, worn ground, seeking my strained ears. The music comes in waves, swelling and then gradually fading away. Crickets and grasshoppers chirp together in perfect harmony except when, every now and then, their pitches clash with each other until one group gives up and resolves the chord. Mosquitoes hum frantically in my ear, trying to decide which part of my body looks the most appetizing. A plethora of different birds try to communicate to their families that lunch is almost ready, so they should stay nearby, and squirrels rustle around in the trees, searching for nuts and gathering leaves. All is calm; yet all is chaotic.

I open my eyes and walk closer to the mature tree whose branches serve as a construction site for a family of squirrels. My body stays among the trees, but my mind travels back in time to a condo in St. Paul, where I had watched a similar scene a little more than a month ago. From my aunt and uncle's window, I observe two squirrels frantically gnaw at sticks and leaves. They scurry to deposit them on a heaping pile, which will soon be their winter home. The pair, whether they be lovers, relatives, or friends, stay in sync with one another, working at a consistent pace, never getting in each other's way. Occasionally, a cluster of leaves or a twig floats to the ground, but they don't let that bother them. There's no time to waste and much more to do.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback