There is a symphony outside my window. I noticed it after my sister told me of attending a (live! in person!) concert of the Boston Symphony Orchestra. This ignited my craving for in-person classical music. The conflagration consumed the field of my feelings and tugged my attention out my window. The window faces a three-story tall rock out-cropping that supports seasonal birds, deciduous and coniferous trees, chipmunks and squirrels, both gray and red, and a warm-weather woodchuck. As I watched the chickadees bounce from twig to branch, and the branches sway with the weight of the playing squirrels, I could hear the symphony. Silently, I could hear it.
