The pool pump drones like the backup singers for a pop band. The lead singer is an un-seen bird chirping behind the barn. The trees join in on the chorus, their leaves rustling in the breeze that has stirred from its slumber. They are greedy for attention and drown out the pump for a moment. They sway to the time of the music, the green of their outfits styled in 70s bright green. A dried leaf skitters across the deck, joining in on the song for a bar, a triangle struck once.
The background is power puff blue with white clouds dabbed on its surface. The pool dominates the lower left corner, its surface like a silvery blue mylar sheet.
Yes, it is swing time and I'm trying to get my 15 minutes of writing done. I clipped the poodles this morning, finishing up just before 1pm. Cleanup, then window washing has left me limp. Carm was at his mom's, helping with moving the final belongings from her house. Closing date is in a week. His mom is going to live with Carm's brother Joe - getting her out of the house and no longer living alone is a good thing.
I need a bird feeder hanging from one of these trees just off the deck. Would it hurt the tree if I put a few screws into it?
I love the sound of the trees in the breeze. If the forest is so clearly musical, why can’t it play the guitar while I sing Nirvana covers? ~Jarod Kintz
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