When a lone saxophonist plays in a forest who is listening?
If he hits a wrong note, does anyone care?
I wondered these things as I looked at this image. Will the trees react? The birds fly off?
To the forest, it must be strange to have such an odd sound reverberating through the leafy landscape.
The animals would consider it an intrusion; roll their eyes, thinking, “What is this terrible noise?”
I wonder if the lone player thinks of these things or is he taken in by the sheer majesty of playing and connecting in such a hallowed setting.