September 5: Neighborhood Music
Kristen Lindquist
Sorry, I was away for a few days. Back to the daily posts...
Tonight as we read in the cool of our living room, a house finch serenades us from a tree across the street. He sounds most jubilant. Eventually he flies to the hanging flower right outside our doorway, chirping querulously as if stopping by to say hello. Meanwhile, the young man next door is out on his back deck lazily strumming on his guitar, not really playing a song, just trying out random, pretty phrases. And across the river someone is playing a jazz album loudly enough that the clear tones of a trumpet drift through the hazy, humid air, mingling with the sound of the rushing water. A song sparrow sings now, counterpoint to the house finch. And there's the neighbor's chihuahua, it's incessant yipping adding high notes to the mix.
Each one plays its part:
House finch, river, kid's guitar,
jazz, the hazy night.
Tonight as we read in the cool of our living room, a house finch serenades us from a tree across the street. He sounds most jubilant. Eventually he flies to the hanging flower right outside our doorway, chirping querulously as if stopping by to say hello. Meanwhile, the young man next door is out on his back deck lazily strumming on his guitar, not really playing a song, just trying out random, pretty phrases. And across the river someone is playing a jazz album loudly enough that the clear tones of a trumpet drift through the hazy, humid air, mingling with the sound of the rushing water. A song sparrow sings now, counterpoint to the house finch. And there's the neighbor's chihuahua, it's incessant yipping adding high notes to the mix.
Each one plays its part:
House finch, river, kid's guitar,
jazz, the hazy night.