SOUNDTRACK

My nursery school report card said that I couldn’t carry a tune, and maybe with practice, I might learn someday.

Growing up, I spent most of my outdoor time in the meadow behind our house, playing at the nearby brook where we built forts under the tangled bushes on the bank, and picking wildflowers and blackberries in the weedy sandlot down the street.

There were always sounds – the music of the meadow, the thrum of insects in the weeds and wildflowers, the rippling of water in the brook.

The brook was off limits, said my mother. Too dangerous. After the snow melted, I went wading in my rubber boots. My mother found me standing there in water up to my knees. I was grounded for a month.

I now know that everyone can sing. You just have to listen closely.

And I believe that every day has a different soundtrack