the concurrent sounds of yesterday afternoon
Evan Schultz
About Evan Schultz
About the concurrent sounds of yesterday afternoon
the concurrent sounds of yesterday afternoon
yesterday at a windy funeral service, as daughter and son shared stories of a mother’s life now sadly passed, i heard the tap tap tap of a woodpecker perched high up in a tree above, working hard to make a dent in the coarse bark and wood. and as son spoke of his mother’s life, a raucous band of sirens passed by, maybe to save a life, as we painfully gathered to remember one.
a funeral, a woodpecker, an ambulance, within just a few hundred feet of one another; each in our own plane of time, sharing the same air, making our own little dent in the world. i think about the interconnectedness of it all, the way in which all of creation, almost unbeknownst to one another, are more enmeshed in each others lives than we might think, if we pay attention.
and all this is to say that the all the concurrent sounds of yesterday afternoon was a personal reminder to always listen. to hear. to remember that we are all just trying to make a little dent in the tree, just like the woodpecker, or the ambulance, or the grieving child. and my hope that if there is redemption one day, it will only happen if we really listen to and hear all of the sweet and callous songs, cries, and voices that fill the windy afternoon sky.