Whale Song

13 Nov 2011

I donned my lightweight jacket, hat, and gloves,

Positioned my ear buds just so,

Selected Whale Song from my iPod playlists.

Pressed Play.

I left the house for my regular six-mile walk,

Along the same trail, across the same bridge,

Across the same surging river, down the same wood stairs,

Around the same cow pasture, past the same goat house,

And experienced an area I had never seen before.

Whale Song hummed in my ears.

The trees billowed gently in the breeze,

But I imagined they moved with the flow of the ocean.

The leaves danced and circled in the wind,

But I imagined they floated with the benthic push of the sea.

Only Whale Song hummed and moaned in my head.

For two hours.

Nothing but Whale Song.

I thought, “What a peaceful place to exist—where whales live.”

I thought, “Everything around me is colored with the deep resonance of whale song.”

I thought, “The trees and leaves and the river and mountains have a grace I’ve never noticed before.”

For two hours,

I experienced a world I had never seen before.

For two hours, I only saw the world.

For two hours, the world was a backdrop,

To Whale Song.

The gravel driveway back to the house felt crude and indelicate.

Entering through the door in the garage seemed odd and primitive.

The trappings inside the house looked foolish and unnecessary.

I lay down on the living room carpet to stretch my legs.

Whale Song still humming in my ears.

I expelled my last breath.

Whale Song still humming in my ears.

A beautiful solitary sound.