That title sounds kind of creepy, right? Maybe be not. The thing is, most Sunday evenings – when I’m free that is, I sit in the middle of the homestead and just watch trees. Constant and graceful swayings, as a result of the slight blowing wind. Leaves constantly tapping on each other with no hard feelings. Something tells me they must be grooving to some jazzy instrumentals – hopefully by Kenny G.
“Do you love Kenny G’s music?”Cyprus tree enquiries from the other.
“Why not. Add to it some Louise Armstrong, and my day is total bliss.” answers a eucalyptus tree.
The fact that they are different species doesn’t stop them from having fun. Also what buoys them is the fact that I’m watching them. As their conversation continues, I feel my calm reaching its peak. It’s like I’m a part of this comradeship ( a very perfect blend trust me). I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not, since this camaraderie has some telepathic code making it difficult to be pretentious. The communication is like an energy buider, not the kind of communication you have with fellow mortals.
My senses finally awaken to some jazzy rhythm in the air, it’s neither Kenny G nor is it Louis Armstrong. But the kind of music unknown to mortals. I can’t help but let it just engulf my soul.
I get a phone call that distracts me and I sadly lose touch with my ‘friends’. I can’t for how long I was in contact with my woody pals but it must have been a long time. I hadn’t realised dask had fallen and only visible was the silhouettes of my friends. So sad. I get up and walk to my hut hoping for the next re-union.
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