It’s very windy in Albuquerque today. Â Probably gusts of 40-50 mph, but under an unbroken blue sky. Â It was a good day to take a walk and attend to sound. Â The sound of the wind in the trees was like surf rushing through pebbles. Â I could listen with my eyes open or closed, and the sound predominated. Â There were occasional bird calls and they seemed near or far, to the right or to the left. Â But the strange thing was that distance, separation, location didn’t seem important. Â And when I looked up at the trees swaying, bobbing and weaving, it didn’t feel like a coordination between vision and hearing–watching the trees and listening to the symphony of the wind rushing through them, at the same time, created a larger, more vivid sense of space. Â it was all given together in a thrilling fullness of sensation.
While I was walking it occurred to me that my own appreciation was part of this sense of spaciousness.  Someone else walking, bent over and shielding their eyes to protect their contacts from the wind and possible dust, would have been inhabiting the cramped space of wanting to be elsewhere.  But I was glad to be there and to fly on the back of the wind.
