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Musings
A Waltz of Flowers
Walking through
the woods, I spied a little clearing some distance ahead. Wending my way
around a turn, I saw a barred gate to what seemed like a pasture. The
wooden planks were showing their age, but what caught my attention was the
bright and shiny new assemblage of metal wires and insulating studs,
peeking out from the other side. That was on the side of the pasture,
rather than the trail that I was traipsing along. Funny, I thought. But
looking up and beyond, all these thoughts just melted away from me. The
scene was wider than eyes could encompass in one glance. Not just eyes but
mind, too. It was like looking out of a window in the screen thrown by the
woods, opening on to the wide world. The brightly-lit grassland was like
vast green velvety carpet rolled out in front of me. The meadow was
sloping, sloping up and away from me. Up and up away it went until it
seemingly met the sky, not half a mile from where I was! The swaying green
masses of leaves of grass at that edge were fluttering like flags
proclaiming the joy of the union.
The day was sunny and clear. The sun was behind me, momentarily hid behind
a passing cloud. The expanse of sky beyond the edge of the grassy knoll
was clear blue with only a few wasps of clouds wandering about. Just then
one of them peeked, lifting a white-topped head, straining take to look
beyond the edge, as if checking on me wondering who the intruder was.
Satisfied, it once again bent down to its work, disappearing behind the
hillock. With the gentle breeze caressing my face, I leaned against the
gate, keeping a careful distance away from those wires.
The meadow was on the slope of a knoll bounded on two sides by the wood,
meeting at the juncture where I was standing. The other two were given up
to the care of the unbounded sky. At the corner on the right, I could just
see the roof of a barn, standing in the slant of the next valley. Near the
edge
of woods a pair of horses were grazing, contentedly. A fine pair it
looked. Ah, that explained the wired mess! It was meant to stop the horses
from wondering into the woods, not to merely prevent nosey intruders like
me. I pulled out the water bottle from the pack. Sipping, I listened to
the birdcalls. In the middle of the day, it was not a bedlam of sounds,
more like a call pealing off from time to time. But I could hear a number
of different notes, distinct and repeating. Was that the call of the
bright red bird with dark beak that I had just seen? And that rhythmic
beating on the wood could be nothing but a woodpecker busy in its world!
A sudden gust of wind made the trees creak and the leaves bustle. Waves
danced up and down, running amuck in all directions on the lush greenery
of the verdant pasture. And with these danced the yellow wildflowers
spotting the landscape, throwing their heads in the wind, bucking with
glee! A giant, gnarly, grandfatherly oak was guarding the sprightly trees
and clumps gathered around him at the other end of the veldt, where it met
with the wood and the sky.
I reclined luxuriously against the spartan support of the gateposts. My
head drooped and came to relax on the arms folded on the top railing. The
riotous bloom of the violet and white wildflowers that had accompanied me
along the trail for some time now, had ventured over the manmade barrier
into the meadow. What did they care? And wasn’t it the springtime, the
celebration of life? Who could stop us, they seemed to ask in chorus,
keeping tune to the fluttering breeze. And the lonely butterfly with
bright yellow and blue flashes on its wing seemed to agree! Unmindful of
the playful dance of the
flowers, nay positively relishing it, it went about what it does best...
flitting from one tiny flower to another and on to the next! Cuddling and
caressing, snuggling and hugging, sipping the intoxicating brew of life!
There comes the other... it came skipping from the bushes beyond to join
up with its soul's mate. Then started the dance in tandem, whirling and
twirling in unison, crazy and delightful, running circles round each
other, playing hopscotch among the blossom. A veritable Waltz Of Flower!
Funny, I thought, the honeydew that suddenly misted my eyes is no use to
them, only
to me...
– Abhijit Laghate
June 22, 2002
Note: The title is derived
from a composition with the same title by Tchikovasky.
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