I Hear the Symphony

 

I Hear the Symphony

 

There are no hurricanes in the Gulf of Mexico this time of year, but a passing cold front has spawned a squall that is buffeting the shallow water into frothing waves. I have come to this beach for no other reason than to be here. Two hours earlier, I arrived at the beachfront restaurant behind me to dine on the harvest of the sea. Now, physically sated, I have wandered down to the shore with no great purpose in mind. The wind whistles in my ears and tousles my hair as, instead of illuminating a sparkling glow on the blue-green water, the sun sinks into the bank of rain-filled, mottled gray clouds scuttling along the leading edge of the front.

The dark, angry waves crash into the unyielding concrete pilings as the pier atop them stretches out in front of me like a single arm raised to the sky in supplication. Its silent prayers are answered only by the wind’s howl and the water’s repeated pounding.

I stand there listening in the fading light. A sea bird sounds its displeasure as it hangs motionless, unable to make progress against the air rushing past it. The onrushing waves thump the damp, packed sand at my feet constantly shifting the dividing line between Gulf and shore.

I stand silent, immersed in the forces around me, unaware of time and place. My rapt attention is rewarded as I hear the symphony of the world played for me. This same piece has been played by the elements every day since the gnashing of tectonic plates pushed the continents up out of the ocean. Mother Nature is the conductor; she directs the percussion of the waves and the swoosh of the winds, as the gull’s triangle-like calls add the descant. Each day is an encore, an homage to the previous day’s composition.

Most days, there is no one here yet, still, the symphony plays. Today, I am an audience of one, standing here as earth, wind and water provide a tumultuous coda to the day’s opus. Spiritually sated, I express my appreciation to the musicians with silent applause.