Sound and Water
TYLER DUFFRIN
The cicadas, the birdsong, it’s like a symphony, it’s outrageous. Each step I take is a lifetime lived; a becoming-something-different; a being-lifted-out-of-my-skin and further into the space that separates me from each raindrop, the great flowing river, falling from gray clouds. Green grass, brown trees, we are here together. The bird that scours a fallen branch, the flies that crawl around on my backpack—what are they searching for? Like mine, their search is continuous; it knows no end. We all forage, we all commiserate, sun-up to sun-down, lost in this sacred wave, sinking our roots more deeply into the soil each day.
The cicadas, the birdsong, it’s like a symphony, it’s outrageous.
Each step I take is a lifetime lived; a becoming-something-different; a
being-lifted-out-of-my-skin and further into the space that separates
me from each raindrop, the great flowing river, falling from gray clouds.
Green grass, brown trees, we are here together. The bird that scours
a fallen branch, the flies that crawl around on my backpack—what are
they searching for? Like mine, their search is continuous; it knows no
end. We all forage, we all commiserate, sun-up to sun-down, lost in
this sacred wave, sinking our roots more deeply into the soil each day.
Tyler Duffrin is a PhD candidate in Human Factors Psychology at Clemson University. His experimental research and creative efforts are both inspired theoretically by ecological psychology. He is interested in the philosophy and psychology of perception and emotion.