The mundane sometimes becomes extra-ordinary. A few weeks ago I sat down at the edge of the water in one of the local woodlands that I frequent on my local rambles. The light dimmed as the weather came in. I've tried to capture this fleeting moment in a short composition for solo flute. Imagine the sounds of the flute being carried by a lake and disappearing into vast coniferous forest.
Autumn skies approach between the blue pines. Golden birch leaves rustle in the disappearing sun while silver drops scar the reflecting surface of the water as if this were Sibelius’s Karelian lake. The sound of traffic in the distance makes way for a croaking frog and the chatter of birds just behind me. My eyes drop. The black-and-white reflections of the lakeside pines and birches take me in their midst. As if in a still movie an owl emerges from between the pines. Quiet silver magic.
If you want to listen to another of my compositions, you may be interested in My Ghost of Time.
Copyright text and music Petra Vergunst
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