I haven't disappeared just yet (:---
There seems to me to be something a little strange...
As usual, after being dropped off at school, I take my daily hike up the hilly surfaces that my school has been miraculously built upon. As I walked, I listened, and all that I could hear was the unrehearsed songs of the birds, with voices of different tweeters and chirrups. Their voices sang so perfectly into my ear, like a perfectly unique little melody, a high trill intertwined with soft, murmured coos, percussioned with the tremour and rustle of leaves. It's as if the wind held the stave of these little voices; and each note is a fresh intake of beauty and a new sound.
It is truly unique.
And I cannot help but to think of our music. We crave structure to our music. Birds' song may delight us, but it is so beyond our grasp; so beyond our boundaries conjured by theories that melodies must take a few steps, then a few leaps, but not all over the place; that harmonies must have either 3rd or 5th higher pitch, give or take a few veriations such as a sustained 4th from time to time. Each instrument must perfectly be in tune- there is no in-between note between B and C. "Accidentals" are truly accidentals.
It is not that the music that we make is horrible. I truly love music; our deepest inspirations, our most heartfelt emotions, and our innermost desires are teamed together with various sounds placed so exhaustively and structurally detailed upon our black-and-white stave. We almost slave ourselves, and the result is a piece of music, a piece of our attempt at perfection.
Still, my mind wonders back to the song of the birds. They need not harmonise. They need not follow the rules. They know not perfection.
For they sing, because that's what they do.
And its perfect.
... And it's so beautifully moving that it could bring tears to my eyes.
It is how God's creation moves me. Beyond music. Beyond words.
Is God.
PTL, Sarah.
