In the city I often miss
the music of the nature’s quiet
wind's soughing rustle of leaves,
sparrows busily chirping,
water flowing,
bullrushes shushing in wind and wave
black birds’ throaty notes
waves crashing and frothing
shiny wet pebbles rolling and settling
meadow larks trilling their songs
long grasses whispering and nodding
rain dripping from grey clouds
geese honking to circle and fly
crickets and frogs calling to their mates
thunder rumbling from black clouds
In February, I often miss warmer climes.
“Nature’s music is never over; her silences are pauses, not conclusions.
~ Mary Webb
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