A crowd gathers outside your window. You lie in bed, listening to the strange gentle murmurs. You sit up, sigh, and stare at the floor for a while, still listening.
The stirring murmur is alluring – a beautiful, lacy, silky breeze with quietly dynamic waves and independent streams and undercurrents crossing one another. . . . then even more transparent layers of waves on top of even more layers of waves.
Another morning.
Finally, you get up and peek through the curtains to see what the weather is like.
There are tons of them out there again – people bunched up, waiting for you, more appearing from behind houses and cars in the distance, each walking this way. A few are standing on cars or climbing trees, some already sitting on branches, waiting.
A man spots you peeking. He points and calls out, “There! In the window!” and everyone begins cheering.
City. River. Tree. 