Sound Observation 1

Sounds Observation #1

I rest my head on the railing of what was my childhood porch. The porch which was once elevated higher than the trees has grown short. The whispering of the wind through the trees grew silent. The echoes of an audible voice-mail resonate amongst the mountaintops of West Virginia. The deep tenure articulation confirms it is a man. The voice’s  gruff and breathy undertone confirms it is my uncle.

...since I’m not going to West Virginia anymore and I’m not drinking caffeine anymore and I’m not going to the gym anymore...

It was my uncle. The decaying whisper of his voice reverberates against the lush symphony of Mother Nature. The frictional chirps created by the legs of male crickets melodiously influence the infrequent, but rhythmic ribbiting and croakers croaking from a neighboring pond.

My uncle’s voice grows honeyed. His infiltrating waves of hopelessness was now replaced with a soft-spoken hope. The whooshing of the trees and the lushing symphony of Mother Nature breaks abruptly.

Leslie, I’m feeling much better and so different and so much more hopeful about the new life--