I took a walk the other day, just down the driveway of our vacation home. It's about half a mile that meanders through tall pines, firs, larch and aspens. I was walking with the wife of a good friend. We've known him for many years; his wife is new to us.
We strolled along in the late afternoon. Bracken ferns cover the ground alongside the driveway, shaded by the tall trees. As the breeze moves through the treetops, you can hear the different voices in the choir. The firs have a whispery voice, thanks to their many short needles. Ponderosa pines, tall and long-needled, have more of a swishing voice. Best of all (in my view) are the aspens, whose roundish flat leaves sound almost like they belong in the percussion section of an orchestra.
I mentioned that I liked the different note that aspens add to that music when Mrs. Wife looked at me like I'd lost my mind. She's a city girl. What can I say? Then she listened for a while and realized that the many trees have different sounds, and that it was beautiful to be walking along a quite little path, under a choir of trees.