Traditional Eucalyptus Didgeridoo (Ilario Vannucchi)
From: Blue Shoe by Anne Lamott*
The voice of the didgeridoo was a call from far away, from centuries back. If you pressed your ear to the ground, Mattie thought, this was the tone the earth would make. The music resonated like an ancient god, or what desert winds must have sounded like to the first ears on earth. She closed her eyes again. She felt doomed, and lumpy, fat and old. She tried to recall the women from church, their triumphant wideness, centered and vigorous, and this helped. Ella clung to her like a baby Koala. Mattie nuzzled her, snorfled her neck. The didgeridoo sounded like an enormous animal panting at the end of its life. Mattie looked up and found Daniel standing before her, lifting her daughter into his arms. He held her in front of his chest, his long hands knitted together effortlessly to make a seat in which round, rosy Ella perched, somewhat worried but curious.
Mattie opened her fingers slowly to she could peek in at the little rubber shoe, as if examining a poker hand. Harry and Al were talking, and Daniel still held Ella in his arms, turning in slow circles. Mattie watched, listened, breathed in deep and slow: if the sound of the didgeridoo was a color, it would be rich and earthy, plant purple, like eggplant with light behind it.
*really didn’t like the book, but this quote was worth the read.