By Nova Berger
There’s an orchestra on the Island, hidden deep within the wood.
And if you have a whimsy mind and eager ears, go out and find it. (For nearly everyone really should.)
It’s a show for those who stop in ponder,
Who, like gulls, follow the wind of their wander.
For the breath of the Island is not one of quiet
She whistles and puffs in bird song.
As the bush tits hop and skip and bop,
The whole island sings along.
The sea hums softly as it laps the rocks,
And chirping choruses come from every bright red fox,
And the treetop crows sing of sweet romance,
Of finding lost love in the wood – ah, yes, perchance.
And the crows serenade ballads in the tree tops,
To the symphony of twinkling raindrops.
But when it rains, it’s never blue
Mist collects like moss, in every soft green papery hue
For the stage, the woods, a New World of the fairest.
Of pink florets, Marion’s berry, and, perchance, Zalusianskya (the rarest).
And the wind through ancient ferns tells whorls of stars
Of whispery deep dark nothings, the secrets of Mira and Mars.
And if the Perseids did fall, they would rest on branches of birch
And just like Mars’s two moons, alight in their wondrous perch.
Indeed, the woods know the stories, and reflect the songs of the sea,
Each humble cedar branch wrapped in green, a forest of sea anemone.
So come join the show,
Let every breath be your song.
Why, to live day by day by the rhyme of the sea,
how could life ever go wrong?
Nova Berger is a human evolutionary biology student and curiosity enthusiast dedicated to breaking the “Seattle freeze.” Guided by Alice in Wonderland’s philosophy – “You can do six impossible things before breakfast” — Nova embraces the unique opportunities Seattle offers. With a perspective that views the world as a cabinet of curiosities, Nova is passionate about sharing stories and helping fellow Seattleites discover their own distinctive “nooks” along the way.
