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Sunday, June 6, 2010

Short Story: Escape

He took his blackberry and ipod and head out bare foot into the back yard checking twitter every five seconds, he wants someone to reply to his tweets, thousands of kilometres away and he still craves the attention addicted to technology, but then again he is trying to see if his crush is doing something, stalking made easier by the internet day after day with facebook, twitter, tumblr and a plethora of weird names that just pop in and out, people join them by the masses.
He takes off his socks and says "fuckit I'm going bare foot", he turns on his ipod and lies on the grass, picks a song, yes at first then camel trying to capture the mood of the surrounding environment. His phone goes out of range he can't tweet anymore,"ah well fuckit I'm enjoying this too much. He stands up and starts walking deeper into the yard. He finds a door that leads to the wooden walkway over the pond he walks out and sits there dipping his feet in the water.
The music is choking him he turns off the ipod, his ears are bombarded wit the sound of beautiful silence pierced by the singing of birds heading home after all the sun is setting it has been since 6:30 and it will still be setting in an hour when it's 9 pm. four hour sunsets, German summers are too romantic.
He listens the birds tweet and chirp this time it's pure music, the wind picks up pace and does a nice follow up in his ears. The distant occasional car wandering in the distance adds a nice whoosh to the ambience. The percussion joins in distant at first rolling into bigger stronger notes, thunder from behind him. He looks up and there's a blanket of purpulish blue clouds covering the landscape of the lilypad filled lake and tall trees in on the other side.
"A storm's coming" but he doesn't care this feeling of beautiful nothingness is just too pure to give up.
Rain starts to drizzle forming a nice rhythm and tempo to the now building symphony orchestrated by nature herself, the rain increases and a nice soothing sounds formed by the falling of drops on the lake like bongos and congas. The wind starts the string section, it picks up the pace and starts moving the leaves around him.
He get's cold takes his feet out of the water, this is no weather for shorts. He shivers slightly while the rain drizzles on him and the wind kisses his side with a cool but loving embrace.
He is enjoying this too much, he doesn't want to leave. He ignores his blackberry lying there next to his ipod now covered in a nice pattern of water drops.
A duck lands in the lake with a light sound and then pierces the ambience with a loud quack, and as if signalling the skies the rain stops. But the wind violently blows playing the climax with the leaves.
Thunder plays again this time short and electric followed by a quick flash by his twin lightening.
Birds fly over head, and the dancing leaves approach him closer with every blow of the wind as if beckoning him to join them. But he is an outsider, an observer and he is loving this so much.
The waves now forming in the lake add another visual dynamic than the spotted pattern previously formed by the rain.
The wind stills, giving rise to the brass section. The birds all in harmonious unison chirp with their different calls. Another duck land in the distance he catches its landing with the corner of his eye
" I just had to leave my nikkon d60 at home" but no camera can truly capture this beauty. The sights the sounds. The owl joining in to the left while the older birds reply in short concise riffs. A crow adds a bass line.
The view gets brighter again as the rays of the setting sun penetrate the now blue clouds. Light and shade ciaro-scurro, he just realised that this visual orchestra is also a light show, it darkened with the heavy part of the song and now lightens near then end, when all is calm.
Thunder now in front of him, the clouds have moved on forward like a wandering band, visiting spot after spot. They will be joined with the winds in another location for another concerto. And like that with a beautiful demenuendo only the birds remain. Now joined intensely by the distant hooting of owls.
The birds won't stop anytime soon, not till it's dark. It won't be dark for another hour. Thunder roars again. He looks at the tall trees infront of him and the thick woods to the right all surrounding that one lake.
A pigeon flies up to his right the fluttering is a nice addition followed closely by distant church bells, on is enough.
The background now fills with engine sounds and people talking in the back. This one car drowns the sound of birds. He relaxes once it passes and tries to shut down the chatter behind him from interrupting the finale played by the birds.
This isn't really isolation, but for now he is alone, he is happy. He doesn't care what will he do next with his life or what will he have for dinner; will his crush go out with him and where that would lead him. He doesn't care he likes it here, likes the silent natural orchestra that is playing just for him, live from the lake in the German countryside.
He just sits there on the wooden walkway legs crossed, feet now dry yet still cold from being in the water, looks up unto the fluff covered sky, his eyes descend to the trees then the lake. The leaves behind him alert him to the wind picking up pace again. Crows start off in the distance while he thinks to himself "I'm enjoying this"

He gets up reluctantly, he doesn't want to leave this but the rain is starting again and now he is feeling colder. Also he has to get back to "life", that existence that is so dependant on machines. Before he leaves he makes a vow, a promise he knows he wouldn't keep. To try and savour moments like this for later, not to get so immersed in the technology and being busy with career to miss out on the simple aesthetics that fill his heart with joy. Those things that inspire him in the first place. Inspire him to create. He gets up leaving the rain drops play a solo on the lake and heads inside back to the "real world", it was nice . "I should do this more often", he thinks as he checks twitter now that his phone picked up a signal
again. As a cuckoo bird starts behind him he looks back one last time and heads inside the house.
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless handheld

1 comment:

  1. Reactions: Sane or Insane?

    Which is meant to be the positive one? Insane can mean terrible just as it can mean "wicked" as in cool. Sane can mean good, just as it can imply "boring". So which is which?