SONATA IN D FOR WINDSOCK AND VOICE
1st Movement Having reached its zenith, even the sun seemed to find the day too hot to keep moving, for it loitered long, glaring indecently through the sparse foliage. What had appeared from a distance to be promising relief for a solitary bushwalker, turned out to be meanly deceptive as he searched for an adequate patch of shade. The trees had learned to minimise their exposure to the sun by turning the edges of their leaves towards it, thus rendering the shade they cast most ineffective when it was most needed. Propped up against a tree trunk the exhausted wanderer made a couple of limp attempts to use his map as a fan. But it wasn’t worth the effort. He stared into infinity across a landscape so still that the motion of his breath captured his full attention. Emptied of thought his mind dissolved into the landscape and all sense of distinction between himself and his surroundings vanished. In this state of inner silence even the pain of the mid day heat “disappeared” – transfo...