Glissando

“Without any wind blowing, the sheer weight of a raindrop, shining in a parasitic luxury on a cordate leaf, caused its tip to dip, and what looked like a globule of quicksilver performed a sudden glissando down the center vein, and then, having shed its bright load, the relieved leaf unbent.” Vladimir Nabokov

We often look out in front of us and we barely see. Nabokov calls us, with his exquisite words, to see beyond the ordinary in our lives. I watched and listened outside the other day - nature has many gifts. I walked in the midst of plenty this morning, rain pouring down, trees filled with leaves bursting with life. I cannot describe in the intricate detail of Nabokov - but as I walk into the cathedral of trees I know that this is the same path I followed in winter, filled with footprints in the snow. Today I see clover and pop-up daisies, buttercups and wildflowers. The grasses are abundant in the meadow and the peace garden is filled with flowers, birds, bees, and insects. Frogs, fish and snakes fill the pond. I am not alone on this path. I walk among all who have walked this path before me and all who inhabit this path each day.

As I walk today, I reflect on how my journey begin last fall. The leaves of summer slowly turned toward the earth, one by one, falling onto the path. Swirling in the winds and the storms of the fall, trees blocked the path as I navigated the unfamiliar landscape, searching, seeking and hoping not to get lost. Over and under, up and around, to make my way down the well traversed trail. Winter brought snow and the footprints of others. Some days it was hard to see what was ahead and what was behind. I wandered through those footprints, wondering who the other was. Wondering who I was. Frightened and excited all at once I set out on the path searching and creating a story. Listening, really listening. I heard the wind make its way through the bare branches of the trees - swaying and bending, whistling and singing. In the midst of it all I found myself there - caught in the beauty of the moment.

The spring and the rain have filled the earth with abundance. All the creatures of nature; grass and flowers, birds, bugs, tadpoles, toads, snakes, newts and bears cross the path I walk. Turtles jump into the pond as Tootsie and I make our way out on the path. The creepers become silent as we approach. The path is filled with life and leaves. All is new and filled with potential and hope. Abundance everywhere. The drops of water glisten on the thin blades and shooting tendrils of grass and leaves, droplets on the petals and rocks. The cicada sing in the background. I welcome their song. The shells of their lives on trees and in the grass - their hum just out of sight. Where will life lead - I am never sure? No one can really be sure. I think back and wonder about what will come in the next seventeen - the cicada life cycle. I thought little about what happened in the past seventeen years. I don’t remember the last time the cicada hummed in the background. I don’t want to be caught unaware again. I want to hear the sounds of nature and the sounds of my soul. The glissando of my heart. Listening to it beat - and heed its call. Alive!

“A sudden glissando” (Nabokov). Glissando, “a continuous slide upward or downward between two notes - ORIGIN Italian, from French glissant, present participle of glisser ‘to slip, slide(Webster's Dictionary, 2013 online)”.