Friday, March 29, 2013

Spring Song

The oak trees are silent in the dead heat of summer.  Only the birds taking refuge in their green shade chatter and chirp.  In fall, the least puff of air sets the dry brown leaves clicking like hundreds of castanets.  Wind whistles through bare branches in winter.  Only in spring do the oaks find their true voice.  Sitting on the deck in the morning sun, I listened to the oak trees hum their song of spring in a light breeze yesterday.  I was powerless to resist their sirens' call.

1 comment:

Kathryn said...

I would love to hear their call someday. City slickers seldom take or have the chance to hear the sounds of nature all around them. Although the crashing of waves on the shore, with seagulls letting their presence be known, is another kind of awesomeness all its own.