Have you ever listened to the tree's?

I sat, Indian style on the back deck paying special attention to the unseasonably warm November night, originally just wanting to gaze at the sky. I wasn't expecting the quick, engulfing dense fog or the heaviness of the moisture that began surrounding me. Comfortable in my sweatshirt & yoga pants, I never did catch a glimpse of the night sky. I could scarcely see the tree that was only 25 feet in front of me. It became eerily creepy on this fall night. The surrounding traffic noise was practically non-existent and my sense of hearing on heightened alert because of the rapid change in the visibility.

It became apparent that the trees, still heavy with leaves, were dropping them at a fairly quick rate. I can only assume it was because of the heaviness of the fog. The sound was a fairly relaxing beat, seemingly on purpose. You could here them floating to the ground one after another with pause between. Like a planned rhythm from the percussion's of a symphony. The largest tree on the right, the lead and the three smaller playing in from the left. Some floating to the roof, a heavier sound than those hitting the ground and then the swoosh of the leaves falling to the tarp covered play-set gliding eventually to the slide. Still noting the lack of visibility. I had a faint light coming from the kitchen window, but for the most part could no longer see the path to the door. The fog even more dense now and the tree's apparently enjoying their song, were almost teasing me with their antics. I sat wishing I could witness the leaves sound creation but grateful to have experienced the synchronous vibration of the night. The one tree sitting bare of leaves (I'm sure feeling left out), with a double trunk that twists into each other,  joined in with a barely noticeable movement. Like the sound of an embrace that you would miss unless you were truly paying attention. An appreciative sigh.

The chill eventually got to me and I meandered back to the house with a grateful grin and a calm heart, still listening as the tree's continued their song. I stepped inside, absorbing the warmth but longing to listen to the trees for eternity. 

Sandra Murdoch-Becker

Copyright November, 2015