The vantage point is a hillside looking down upon a river some two hundred yards below, and above the treeline.
A steady and prolonged gust of wind blows between the riverbanks, from the water level to upwards of the treetops, a vast current of rushing air, approaching in the distance, following the flow, and fading down the distant waters like the passing of a ghost train, almost visible, vaguely palpable, then gone away, a thing alive, a living sound.
The composer would do well to bring the merest reflection of such an experience into being.
A steady and prolonged gust of wind blows between the riverbanks, from the water level to upwards of the treetops, a vast current of rushing air, approaching in the distance, following the flow, and fading down the distant waters like the passing of a ghost train, almost visible, vaguely palpable, then gone away, a thing alive, a living sound.
The composer would do well to bring the merest reflection of such an experience into being.
