Monday, October 10, 2011

The Bench



Sitting on a weathered bench on the high hill overlooking the rolling fields, I watch as the sun is just starting to set. I did not set out to watch the sunset, but I am pleased to have chosen a spot with sweeping views of the rural countryside. A mature deciduous forest surrounds the sports fields. In a few weeks the leaves will be painted all the shades of the season. The early evening air is crisp and clear. Pulling down the sleeves of my sweater, I open my journal to write.


Spindly daddy-long-legs share the bench with me. Our two-year old yellow lab, Remington, is checking out the new smells, trailing his black canvas leash a few feet away. I turn to check on him just in time to see nature call smack dab on top of the leash. I close my journal, collect the dog and head over to the pavilion to find a bag. After a quick rinse of the leash, together we retrace our steps and remove the offending mess in the grass.

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Back on the bench, the sun has dropped lower and the trees are swaying in the evening breeze. I open my journal to write, the pages flapping underneath my hand. All of my senses are tuned to the crisp autumn air whispering through the leaves of the white oaks around me. It is an ancient sound, a timeless gift too often taken for granted.


Not a minute goes by and I hear the deep rumble of his car pulling into the parking lot. Moving from hot and humid Houston, he bought the black convertible for autumn evenings like this. I close my journal again. I call for the dog, again, and we head over to greet him. The dog gives a far better greeting, pulling at the leash, wagging his entire body, and whining in anticipation.

Eager to show off the new audio work in the car, the music surrounds the car and fills the immediate area. He pops open the trunk. The vibrating subwoofers are full of energy and rich bass undertones. His energy level is as high as the volume and he says, “Let’s go for a drive!”


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