As the sun rises it makes music out of everything it touches; It begins in the tree tops, where the leaves jingle like bells.
The sun rises higher and more bells join the clamour. The tree branches join to form notes of flute and clarinet.
And then: the sun touches the first blades of grass. The grass vibrates with the intensity of a taut violin string. Flowers begin to open, bellowing brass.
People add to the symphony: alarms, footsteps, car horns, air brakes. Truck beds rattle over uneven asphalt.
The long sides of buildings beat like the surface of drums. The hum of electricity sings with the tension of a plucked string. Switches click-clack like castanets.
As the sun reaches its zenith, the music is out of control. It is like “Ode to Joy” played both backwards and forwards at once.
It is chaotic and vital.