FLUTES "MEETING WITH THE ARCHANGEL OF LIGHT-ANGELBLAZER"

Angel Eszterházy . Музыкальная композиция на берегу океана в Тофино, Британской Колумбии. Автор читает отрывок из рассказа" УТРО" своей книги- "ВСТРЕЧИ С АНГЕЛОМ СВЕТА"и импровизирует русскую плясовую на японской деревянной флейте Сякухати, а также записан живой океан.

Copyright "Goulash Home Records", January 25th., 2010,Canada.
Morning
September 18th, 7514 year. I open my eyes. Sighing deeply, feeling the fresh air as it rushes into my lungs.
I say: - Thank you God and Angels! A new day has begun!
Through my open balcony I can hear the sounds of Simmss creek water and the rustle of golden, green and purple maple leaves. A slanting solar beam slips through the window hitting my bed.
I say: -Hello-hello my brother!, and play a few seconds with the light. Yawning and stretching, I toss my silk red blanket off my still sleepy body. I lower both legs on the carpet. I get up and make a cross shape with my hands over my chest. Its seven o'clock in the morning and time to prepare breakfast for my sons. In thirty minutes the school bus will arrive. I am going down to our living room floor. Turning on our clump of electronic monster called computer and find the BBC radio channel. Music pours from the speakers, accompanied by the British accent exclaiming proudly: -News from L0ndon I open the refrigerator. Apple juice, carrots, sockeye sandwiches and some chocolate are all to go in Vassilis and Peters lunchboxes. All done! I put on the table plates, filled with cereal for «the first breakfast». It is time to turn on «Nottingham church bells» on the computer. This is the kids alarm clock. Good for the Angel of the light. With a twist of the wrist I adjust the volume.
DO-RE-MY-FA-SOL-LA-SI! - Rings through the whole house for three full minutes. After the bells are done playing, I hear someone coming down the stairs. My oldest son Vassili is coming down holding his famous French beret on the head. He is a lanky blonde with serious look on his face, almost a teenager.
Good morning, Papa!
Howd you sleep?- I ask.
I wish I couldve slept longer! - He smiles.
Reluctantly follows my youngest son. His big brown eyes have turned into small slits from the bright light. We embrace each other.
Greetings! Privyet! We go outside to our patio. As we lift our hands to the sky. We inhale a cool September morning breeze.
Thank you God! and we join hands in a circle as Peter recites the old Russian version of the prayer Our Father, same as translated from Greek to old English by King James.
Amen... Breakfast... School bus... Silence... I open the windows in all rooms. I take my cane and go to the ocean. In two minutes I am standing on the shoreline. Eight o'clock in the morning. The Sun grants all living things cordiality and heat. I smile. I scoop palms full of emerald coloured water. Pacific Ocean. I wash my face...
I salute you, ocean, for the cleanliness of the energy I am receiving!
You are welcome- the wave answer as they touch my bare feet.
Pleased, I sit down on a huge salted log and close my eyes. This summer has passed quickly by like forty years of my impressive life. And I am going into transformation again... I peer to the horizon. Mountains pierce the morning clouds, turning them into strange surreal forms of Salvatore Dali. The seagulls try to steal food from crows - small crabs that are left behind as the tide goes out farther than they can.
Kharrrr! Geeh, geeh, geeh!!
I watch as a seal surfaces for a breath and dives back after the salmon like a scuba diver. Its fishing season. Many get caught, lots go on spawning to complete their life cycle. Behind me the growl of cars interrupts my mental conversation with the universe about the law of attraction and harmony. The 19 South Island highway fills up with people hurrying onto downtown work. Rush-hour traffic. Its nine o'clock in the morning. It is time for me to go back into my "shell-house". Vanity has begun. I now need to make phone calls, write letters and make breakfast for myself. Its Monday morning, September eighteen.

Category:

Music

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• Angel
• Eszterházy

[AngelEsterhazy]

Attention! To read complete Russian story "MORNING" here at .....MORE INFO!.......

[AngelEsterhazy]

Its nine o'clock in the morning. It is time for me to go back into my "shell-house". Vanity has begun. I now need to make phone calls, write letters and make breakfast for myself. Its Monday morning, September eighteen.

[AngelEsterhazy]

I watch as a seal surfaces for a breath and dives back after the salmon like a scuba diver. Its fishing season. Many get caught, lots go on spawning to complete their life cycle. Behind me the growl of cars interrupts my mental conversation with the universe about the law of attraction and harmony. The 19 South Island highway fills up with people hurrying onto downtown work. Rush-hour traffic.

[AngelEsterhazy]

I peer to the horizon. Mountains pierce the morning clouds, turning them into strange surreal forms of Salvatore Dali. The seagulls try to steal food from crows - small crabs that are left behind as the tide goes out farther than they can.

Kharrrr! Geeh, geeh, geeh!!

[AngelEsterhazy]

ВНИМАНИЕ! Запись океана оч высокого качества...Лучше слушать в стереонаушкниках..Не пожалеете!