Sostenuto

“Sostenuto: sustained to or beyond the note's full value —used as a direction in music.” - Merriam Webster’s Online Dictionary

I am a guitar held to the chest of the woods. The knot-knuckled trees strum, I produce sound. And it isn’t always music, I may be out of tune, my chord missing a necessary note; sometimes I’m too tightly strung. Usually, though, something beautiful runs through the feelings these woods play in me. That’s why I keep coming back, just as I keep taking my guitar off the wall and plunking out tunes.

The path I took today went through a different part of the woods, where the blowdown was equally severe as the other parts I’ve seen since the storm. A huge tree unable to stand by itself now leans on its neighbor for support; further down the path a branch thicker than my waist lies splintered in the mud, wrenched off and flung down from a treetop scores of feet overhead. My thoughts go again to my own vulnerability and to the tenuous health of our American democracy and of our species. Will my country be here in 150 years? Will our species be here in 1500 years? I’m not confident in the answer to either question. These fallen trees looked spectacularly strong, and then last week’s storm came.

The path I’ve taken emerges suddenly from the woods, and I find myself on the beach, as the sun is setting. The Boston skyline regards me serenely from across the harbor. And here before me at. the height of the afternoon tide, the water is large and calm, mutely mirroring the immense sky.

Whatever happens to the trees I’ve passed, or to me or our country, or even to our species, I’m confident that the water will remain for a very, very long time, extending into a timeframe I can barely imagine.

This sustaining presence feels beautiful to me. It resonates in my chest as I leave the woods today.

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