A Symphony In Motion

Hello readers,

Here is one of mine; I hope you like it. It is included in my book titled, Volume II - The Current Verses.

A Symphony In Motion

            By Francine Olivier Wilson

   Off we go in our silver sedan, driving early on a day in fall.  Our destination is simply to wherever we end up.  We are surrounded, on this journey, by a constant flux of energy assailing the senses in countless ways.  The sound of the rustling leaves, as they struggle against the wind, on their branches.  Each on an adventure, all its own, during a very brief life cycle.  Their flight through the wind creating a swirling pallet of browns, reds, oranges and yellows.  Color blends that are both unique in any given moment yet consistent in their turbulent motion anywhere you look.  We decide to drive onto route 2 west.  The leaves soaring up and falling down; changing courses then round and round.

   When beginning a journey along Massachusetts’ route 2, heading west, one takes a journey through time as well as in distance.  Trees to their foliage and wheels for man; our car taking us into a future.  Evidence of man’s history can be seen along the slopes and curves of the road formerly known as the Mohawk Trail.

   Starting with the city of Boston and its culture of baked beans and revolutionary history, skyscrapers sit side by side with some of the oldest buildings and streets in the United States. We drive a short distance and cross over the Technological Highway that is route 128: an area similar to Silicon Valley, where companies of every sort can be seen in multitude.  Like foliage to seasons; so too, business to the economy of their time.  The leaves soaring up and falling down; changing courses then round and round.

   The ‘shot heard around the world’ took place minutes away from our location.  One can almost hear Paul Revere yelling, "The regulars are coming!"  We drive by an original, restored, homestead on our right.  I find myself wondering what life must have been like for these colonists.  We drive by a regimen of approximately 14 men walking, with drum and muskets, dressed in period clothing that were not in uniforms.  With powder horns at the ready, they follow their leader who is riding on horseback and carrying a sword.  As they are led into their future, our past is seen.

   Driving into the Metro West area with its many software companies and state-of-art hospitals, we drive along the historic Battle Road in Lexington and Concord.  We drive by more men in period clothing but these are soldiers led by officers in uniform on white horses.  They head towards the battle grounds of the past on this windy chilly day.  The leaves soaring up and falling down; changing courses then round and round.

   Driving into north central Massachusetts we notice business gives way to agriculture and State Forests.  Family farms, like tribal villages of the past, can be seen along the valleys and hill sides.  Lakes surrounded by small towns and villages with churches appear along the countryside.  Craftsmen, of everything from glass works to making furniture, sell their wares. Each of whom is timeless in their trade but unique in their creativity.  Deer and moose living in the wilds can be seen occasionally along the road side.  Though are driven by instinct they remain masters of adaptation in terms of their daily existence.

   Driving further, we pass by the historic Salmon Falls of Shelburne.  Once a salmon fishing center of Native American tribes, this is a naturally formed white water region of the Deerfield River.  Glacial potholes and the salmon and shad spawning grounds can still be seen even though the fishing is nowhere near what it used to be.  A fish ladder still exists as part of a dam.  Arrowheads can still be found occasionally in the ground.  The leaves soaring up and falling down; changing courses then round and round.

   Driving into the Berkshires, Massachusetts changes its cultural flavor yet again!  Small modern ski hills and scenic vistas become prevalent.  Communities are joined by hiking and snow mobile trails and country roads.  Fishermen, hunters and wild life enthusiasts alike find an endless source of adventure.  Artists and photographers find inspiration to learn and create.  Bright yellow maple leaves rustling; our car goes driving by.

   On this particular weekend ride, inspired by the foliage and energy of the new season we decided to try to ride off the main road and into the hills; fueled by the illusive hope of seeing and possibly getting a picture of a moose.  We switch off the GPS and simply followed the energy.  We find ourselves in a quiet rural setting near Greenfield.  We see a small white cottage along the big river and a narrow road just barely large enough to allow two cars to sit side by side.  It is here that we meet a new acquaintance.  The leaves soaring up and falling down; changing courses then round and round.

   We meet a man sitting quietly on a chair near his truck; a painter, who resides in Greenfield.  When asked what he likes to paint, he replied, ‘energy’.  Having never studied art, I eagerly ask him to explain his source of inspiration.  He pointed to a massive tree nearby who’s massive leaves could be seen peppering the ground around us.  He said, “that is the oldest Sycamore tree in the region.  All of these other sycamore trees are its babies or offspring."  This tree is immense!  He then went on to mention how he had studied art a long time ago but had recently changed his views on art in general.  He said he had to make an effort to put aside his training and follow the vibe of his own creativity.

   He was painting the cottage initially but had decided to stop and paint a canvas instead.  Inspired by the energy, he said he could almost tangibly feel, from this location and the tree.  These feelings and our chance meeting enforcing his philosophy of ‘all energies connecting.’  I found this intriguing.  Like this old tree that produced hundreds of seasons of leaves, he had painted many canvases.  Leaves to tree, canvases to artist or journeys to passenger; all energies in motion.  Energy in one instance of time converging to form creations all their own.  Driven by fate; we stopped here by chance and met a truly inspiring individual.  The leaves soared up and then fell down; they changed their course then stayed around.

                                          © 2019, Francine Olivier Wilson, “All Rights Reserved"