leaves

I was visiting with two club kids - this meant that we were sitting on the stoop playing mancala - when the wind picked up. I noticed I heard something very familiar, and yet normally absent. It was the leaves of a very tall tree rubbing together, making that characteristic rustling sound.

There aren't many trees around, and this one was especially tall for the aridity of Fresnillo. At one point in the visit, the little girl had to go get her younger brother (who was getting into mischief) and her friend went to the store to get a sucker. So I just sat there for a few minutes, waiting for them, listening to the tree. I realized how much I miss that sound, and how restful it is to my soul.