Wednesday, June 30, 2010

The Price of Serenity

I have always loved the sound of water...dripping, flowing, rippling, cascading. I grew up on the beaches of Southern California where the sound of waves crashing on the shore was as much a part of my life as having the radio on.
Now I live in Snohomish, a suburb of Seattle, WA. I can't hear waves crashing, I don't have the assaulting smell of salty air that hits my nose the minute I open my front door. Sand doesn't hide in every pair of shoes that I own.
I live just a short walk from a beautiful man made lake that I can see from my living room window. During each season, there is a different view of it and different ways that the light hits it and sends its beautiful messages into my living room.
But I really miss the sound of water.
So I asked my husband, a landscape designer and manager, if I could have a fountain in the front of my house where I could hear its music.
If you come over to my house, you will be swallowed up by my enchanting landscape. Everything growing in my yard has a name and its favorite way to grow. It is the most peaceful, visually captivating landscape on the planet.
But the sweetest breath of God's fresh air is the fountain and the little pond that surrounds it. Water flows up through the rock and cascades over the side into the home of scads of little tadpoles and other water creatures. As dusk, you will hear a symphony of frogs that are audible throughout the neighborhood. The melody and rhythm of the background music is provided by the gentle trickling of the water. The magnum opus has no beginning and no end.
If only I could get as close as those leaves, floating on the surface.