Climbing the rostrum, the maestro raps his baton on his music stand to focus the performers attention on him. Raising his arms, he cues the orchestra.
The opening notes, an unrelenting rhythm, drums upon the seaboard. Your heart marches to the percussionist’s beat.
With a trembling hand, the conductor brings in the mournful hum of reeds, playing beneath a swell of dragonfly wings, and you feel like you could take flight.
Quickening the tempo, shore birds tap out a rapid staccato, building your anticipation towards the final movement.
If you cannot hear the music, then you are simply not listening.