I was walking along the trail behind our house, way out in the back where there's a little patch of naked hill and untouched trees and a little park bench by the concrete path that runs all through to the end of the little backway. I was going to listen to music, I really was. I had Lazy Eye, by Silversun Pickups* all ready to go. And I played it a couple of times going up that empty, wild hill. But then, looking down on the path and the trees and all the silly little houses and silly little people going about their stupid, wonderful little lives, and all this beauty, empty, empty natural beauty just a mess of it everywhere...
Well, I finally took them out and didn't end up putting them back in. I just... listened. listened to the wind blow through the hillside and the trees the rustle to leaves and carry the cawing, chortling magpies from tree to tree. Listened to the music drifting up from someone's open window as they practiced some sort of wind instrument. listened as someone sheared their yard with some noisy power-tool. And I just began to think.
Now, don't get me wrong, I think
constantly;
my brain won't stop yapping. But, truth be told, sometimes I just get so lost in my mind and all the little things and people that go on in there that I forget that there
is an outside world, or at least one outside of dismal prospects and irritating people who can't possibly comprehend what plagues my cranium relentlessly--all day, everyday-- and foolishly insult it with their pestering. But here it was, unavoidable. No, that's not quite right; my brain has the power to block out most things (unless it's to my convenience, of course, like at social events with crowds or balloons -_-. Stupid popping balloons and crowds...), but here I was, fighting for this
beauty, this
healing God made with his very
whisper. And I thought a lot of things, because really, I realized and felt I could think of
anything, and that freedom I very well indulged myself in. And one little, silly, trivial thought that I thought was...
Music, it's just ordered sound. Just sound made in a pattern which sounds good to us (or not so much...). But the wind, the birds humming and cackling, the leaves rustling, the buzzing of the weed-whacker and the sweet melody of a wind instrument through someone's window-- the sounds of nature, the sounds of life, those are music in their own right. but instead of human beings ordering it, God is ordering it, according to what sounds best to Him, and we just happen, sometimes, to catch a glimpse of its beauty.
I guess I thought a lot of things. Another thing I thought was, I suppose the wind does have sense, order, yes? because it really describes everything it touches--it was describing the hill and the trees and the birds and the fences and the houses. It describes life itself as it carves it out through sound. And some creatures, with their brains wired a certain way, Like bats, they can hear how sound describes life. And how deaf are we? thinking wind is just wind and sound is just sound and music and all those other things are so irrelevant, when in reality...
they're so very beautiful, and so very, very signifcant.
*(which, in all fairness, I did learn about in Rock Band, BUT later fell in love with and now own an album of, so HA!)
