The Music in the Swamp

Sunrise: My Backyard-painting by Je' Czaja
Sunrise: My Backyard-painting by Je’ Czaja

I’m sitting here in the dark waiting for Advanced System care to fix the 5,328 problems it has detected. It’s a free program, by the way, and has been keeping my computer alive for the past few years. Check it out.

The window is open because it was a perfect day yesterday; now cool night air is flowing in. It is very noisy outside in Deepswamp. Listen. The tiny bejewled tree frogs are singing, their ardor aroused by the prospect that spring is finally here for real. There must be millions of them. Now mocking birds are joining them; the night shift of singers is being replaced by the day shift of singers. Does all of nature sing all of the time? Do we miss the music because we keep our windows literally and figuratively closed?

Just a few tree frogs are singing now; you can pick out individual voices, a few little guys putting in a bit of overtime. The mockingbirds are tuning up, expertly imitating every bird call they have ever heard.

“He who has ears to hear,” Jesus said. We all have ears, but do we have ears to hear? Try, sometime very soon, to go outside and be very still. What do you hear? What do you smell? What do you feel? We have not morphed into cyborgs yet, the music is playing and it plays a very soothing tune.


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