soundtrack

Sometimes, when I’m walking down the street, a song comes on and becomes the soundtrack of my mind. It’s the rare sensation of music hitting the moment as if it was tailored for it, somehow expressing every little thing you’re unable to say or shout out or cry about or feel proud about, but you can just listen and walk in that feeling as if the world revolves around you. Which it does, come to think of it.

Today, I walk through the white forests again, and I hear the faint sound of water streaming far away. I imagine it, half frozen and streaming through flaky ice, almost solid in some places, narrowing and struggling to pass through. Like me and you. I hear the sighs of trees under the weight of wet snow, leaning ever so slightly to the left or right, waiting for spring to rejuvenate their veins once again, to stretch and moan toward the sunlight with green spuds yearning for warmth. The distinct sound of snow underneath my feet, crackling beneath me as I walk across the open field and the chirping birds, the ones that stayed behind as a blanket fell across our woods. I feel calm. Maybe mindful is a place to be, out here.