I sat beside the creek for a while this afternoon. When I arrive there, the most compelling thing is the sound of the water rippling over the gravelly patch upstream and then rushing over the little log dam into the pool below.
The sound is constant, and ever changing, pulsing as the various energy flows, large and small, interact in an infinite variety of ways. I hear the resulting waves of vibration, from water falling against water, or rushing past a stick or a rock, as if the entire creek, the water, the banks, the overhanging trees that might absorb some frequencies and reflect others, is an instrument. The water is the bowstring, and gravity is the force powering the movement that sets the air vibrating with sound.
There is movement all around. The air is constantly flowing, in ways at least as complex as the stream. Sunlight is streaming in, directly from sun to earth through clear sky, or diffused through a thick layer of cloud. Sap is running in the trees, carrying nutrients and energy up and down from the earth up to the highest leaves. But it is the water that is the most immediate, the most accessible to me as an expression of the unceasing energy around me.
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