My Lucid Reality

The breeze blows the grass, the tiny green stalks bend with the gentle movement in a rhythm to a song I cannot hear.  I sit on the edge of the clearing leaning my back against a large rock, comfortable despite being stone, time and the weather had worn it to the perfect shape.  Looking around at the trees in surrounding the clearing, the blue sky hums overhead its tune quiet at first growing louder with every passing moment.  Leaning forward towards the opening in the wood I watch the stream of clear water tracing towards one edge, the light sound in contrast to the humming sky.  Leaves overhead begin a gentle melody with the pitter patter as the wind touches each in turn.  My eyes close as I take a breath that only contributes to the music in the wood.

I wake to the leaves as swaying to the breeze, the bees humming, and I see a stout little groundhog wander to a short stump in the middle of the grove, as he approaches the cut off wood he gets up to his hind legs, then waddles a few steps forward.  In this animals hand he holds a stick, which he taps generously on the stump making a series of thuds that rouse me further from sleep.  The humming of the bees picks up, there is a thumping in the distance and some birds begin to twitter like a group of singers tuning their voices.

I’m sitting there stunned as wild animals show up from the woods and undergrowth, the sound of the clearing suddenly silent, the groundhog raises stubby cute arms into the air and there’s a rush of preparation and movement, before I know it the animals are gathered in groups, and the music begins.  There are noises that cannot be described, some are unpleasant, some are exceptional, this was a mixture of both.  Bees lined up on the flowers like violin players preparing religiously, birds on low hanging branches twittering in unison, the words of their song lost to me, but no less wonderful.  In a corner of the clearing a group of frogs playing a base, a mouse playing a daffodil, it all combined into something chilling and wonderful.

I watched in awe, they either ignored me, or didn’t care that I was there, but the music moved me like nothing I have heard before, the rhythmic thumping of a dozen different kind of drums, all synchronized effortlessly to the wind instruments, the high pitch melody from the animals in the boughs, I danced, wild and free, with no reservations, feeling the ground beneath me and the sky above, to a concert that only I would see.

Bibliography
Nice to be Here – By The Moody Blues