Big Cottonwood 25 Oct 10

The morning was pretty bleak out, but a cool, although somewhat damp, breeze was blowing making the walk a little above bearable. Little Gus and I eventually made our way to the park and stopped under the big cottonwood tree. I love to hear the wind blow through the leaves on a cottonwood tree – it’s hard to beat.

I stood there still and listened. Gus stood over by the trunk; I think the tree-side leg was lifted as usual. I didn’t care. I closed my eyes and just listened. The breeze blowing the leaves against one another, the rustle and crackling sound is the second most soothing racket produced in all of nature – I think it ties with the breeze blowing through pine needles particularly in East Texas while not the same but just as good.



I can stand there forever and just listen and imagine. Maybe I can hear the sound of the aspens in the Boundary Waters of the Quetico north of Ely, Minnesota or the Burch trees atop Bear Mountain as you gaze north toward West Point or east to Poughkeepsie across the Hudson. It could even be the Aspen down on the Kenai Peninsula or the Aspens and Alders on the west side of Hatcher’s Pass outside of Willow when you are waist to armpit deep and hear the horrible growl of a Grizzly that won’t stand and show himself – a frightful feeling nonetheless.

Whatever you hear, it takes you back in time and at the mere cost of closing your eyes and opening your ears – cheap at any price. Try it