It has been called the greatest audio entity one could ever listen to; a song which can
pierce the soul of even the most dedicated music-hater: Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. Not
only has it been designated thus; also, as one of the few truly divinely inspired works,
one which most men can only marvel at, as they wallow in their appropriate humility. These
creations, however, are definitely not the only aspects of entities beyond the scopes of
men; there are far more examples, which are seen every day, but often overlooked.
I was walking outside, with this song echoing in the recesses of my mind, on a dismal,
overcast day in the Autumnal quarter, a day when where the streets blended with the
atmosphere, when one could hardly look up without feeling the singe of the wind against
one's face. To me, these days have always conjured up images of some distant, looming
storm, some silent tempest which, if not otherwise distracted will soon wreak mayhem and
disaster on my environs.
This day had an intense air about it, as do others of its ilk. This is most likely the
fault of the storm under which it is shadowed, as though it and its inhabitants are uneasy
and harrowed about the imminent predator waiting overhead to pounce. As the sky overhead
swam with deeper and deeper shades of gray and hopeless black, the song in my mind was
reaching some vocal crescendo in the fourth movement, a better foreteller of the gale I
could not imagine. While the winds bullied and tormented the defenseless neighborhood, I
started for my house. Unexpectedly, as the crescendo was losing speed, a quiet, pacific
violin entered the musical fray in my brain, and the entire mood of the symphony mellowed,
the winds themselves pacified, seemingly under Ludwig's fickle dominion. Thinking the
storm had passed, I continued blissfully onward to the meadows which were my destination.
Again I was assaulted, this time by a different part of the symphony; not too long after
the first chorale. This was the startling and almost fearful, but still uplifting, part in
which the female and male vocals collided like two huge tidal waves with the power to
splinter a fleet of ships with the German Alle Menschen repeated several times. Upon this
onslaught of euphony, I turned from whatever I might have been thinking before, and looked
at some violently twisting and rising leaves and other debris, and gazed at the playful
heavens, again ominous. Annoyed with Beethoven and the cruel elements, I stood there,
unmoving; indecisive, not knowing whether to turn around or pursue my present course, I
felt the excited chorale still striking some unknown and inexplicable fear within me, as
though some divine creature were about to strike me down in some vehemence which lies well
beyond the realms of verbal description. So, as the chorus continued repeating its
faithful mantra, the winds again rose up stronger than before, as twigs began to snap and
fall about me; I was still, yet deeply moved.
Perplexed at the whimsy antics of nature, I was about to retreat to my home, when, in
the remarkable symphony, a single male vocal broke through the complicated entanglement of
godly voices, and I, despite the protests of my superego, decided to continue on with some
alien, renewed vigor against the gusty weather, as though I were the bearer of news about
the winner of a war or some other momentous aftermath. At this, as though impressed with
my display of singular determination, the wind made itself placid, laying down before me.
Violins were heard, along with the driving, male voice. Suddenly, completely without
warning and all at once, what seemed like throngs of angelic, female voices sang as though
sent on an appeal to God on the eve of apocalypse. They continued, soon joined by male
voices, and other instruments, in the most spiritual and epiphytic reverberation I've ever
had the pleasure of witnessing, and, seemingly, all in my favor, against cruel and
remorseless nature, pleading to let me pass. I, however, felt like only a petty bystander
in this competition between the symphony and the elements, completely unable to
comprehend, let alone justify either side's wish, only able to observe the outcome and
obey it as the gospel that I knew it was. Thus, whether or not I ever achieved my
destination is beside the point. My sojourn in that small neighborhood taught me perhaps
what is life's most important lesson. This lesson is clear: there are many things in this
world completely beyond most men's small intellects. They may manifest themselves in
certain artworks, novels, or musical masterworks; however, these manifestations only serve
as reminders to arrogant man. While it is true that these manifestations are created by
singular members of the selfsame race, these members serve only as conduits of a greater,
nearly incomprehensible power; something which they, themselves, may often forget.
