Letter: Heavens above
The branches of the long, stretched pines look like a hundred furry batons that sway to the music of the winds.
Old age is not kind to most of us, but the sunshine lifts the spirits and makes the vulnerable senior prod on with their menial duties even though energy is low and depression hovers.
But — listen to the wind rising and the air briskly whispering through the bending tees. Autumn is near. In the last days of August we are ensured of dazzling, all-night dominance of the heavens throughout September — then listen! The wind will rise to fill the air wild with leaves, dropping them through light-filled air everywhere.
There are times when wind has no mercy, running at top speed of destruction while spreading degrees of calamity — a whistling sound, resonant and suppressingly loud, almost like a train whistle or an enormous musical saw.
We who are aged thank God for the powerful grace to take shelter from this classical music of the turbulent winds and wait for the infusions of soft breezes and aromatic calm of September morn.
MARILYN F. SHEA