Just Whispers.

Yesterday was a beautiful day.  Blue sky accented by snow white clouds.  Green everywhere.  Wildflowers and gardens and cut grass scenting the air.  A steady, gentle breeze.

I lay in bed last night with the window open and listened to that breeze.

Even the gentlest breeze through leaves makes a rustling sound, a moving about, a restless fettering.

But through the pines, a breeze merely whispers.  A quiet hush, a low murmur, wordless yet full of sound.  It is the same sound as waves on a distant shore, recorded in a shell and played back when held close to your ear.  It is the sound of the world, breathing.

As my own respiration matched its rhythm, I fell to sleep, with only the whispers of the world on my mind.