Status: Completed.
The Trumpets
The trumpeters.
The sun beat down as the sound of trumpets bellowed in the distance. The river flowed softly alongside our bus; it looked so refreshing after being on a bus for six hours. The windows were open and the cool breeze was flowing throughout the bus, the perspiring occupants enjoying the draft on their warm sweat. The bus pulled suddenly to a halt, the door opened with a loud beep and we, the travellers, exited the bus. The trumpets were louder now; we could see who was playing them. It wasn’t the most beautiful sound, but it was wonderful to watch nonetheless. One of the trumpet players came close to our group. He didn’t stamp to the beat like those you see on the television. He was out of time, everyone was out of time. I stared in wonder as the stomping ceased, along with the sounds of the trumpet. His friend smiled at us, welcomed us, if you will, to the sanctuary of trumpet players, or elephants as they’re more known as. I smiled up at one large grey creature; it gave a stamp of approval.
We followed the friend of the elephant to the feeding grounds; others were around, offering fruits or sugar cane to the fellow trumpeters. Some of them disapproved. They were arrogant; they turned their backs against their admiring audience. Somehow it was quite comical; for at times, the trumpeters would throw away gifts that their audience tossed towards them in awe. Sometimes it hit those who walked by, other times, it landed upon the ground, going to waste.
The friend of the elephant came up to me, he asked a question, yet I didn’t understand. He asked again.
“Would you like to ride an elephant?” He asked again, the sun shining upon his face, making him squint to see me better.
I looked at him, surprised, but I agreed. Who would ever turn down such a wonderful opportunity? He smiled at me then led me away from the feeding grounds towards a platform, where a younger trumpeter was waiting patiently. He trumpeted as he saw his friend approach. Even as a child, these animals were talented, but still arrogant. I smiled at the composer, he let me greet him formally, Nuren was his name, it meant ‘Bright’, and the name seemed to suit this elephant just fine. The elephant’s friend gracefully slid upon the back of Nuren, then asked me to do the same. I wasn’t as graceful as the elephant’s friend, but I did it nonetheless. I sat behind him, my arms around his waist. He told me how he controls the elephant, explained that he had to use the metal prongs so the animal could feel his commands, then off we went. It was a short ride, but it was enchanting. Nuran walked past a water drum. Both the elephant’s friend and I thought he had stopped for a drink. We were incorrect, then soaking wet. Nuren was mischievous, but most children are. The elephant adventure ended shortly after our bath, I dismounted Nuren, yet his friend stayed upon him. I thanked them both then walked back towards where my parents were, they smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but smile back. It had been quiet an adventure. We proceeded to head back towards the bus, it was still a warm day, even with the residue of the elephant’s shower still showing on my clothing.
As we drove away, the sound of trumpets continued to bellow in the distance, but we went further from them, not closer. There was still no rhythm to their music, they were never in time. But they were beautiful. I remember smiling up at the large grey creature; it had given me a sound of approval.
We followed the friend of the elephant to the feeding grounds; others were around, offering fruits or sugar cane to the fellow trumpeters. Some of them disapproved. They were arrogant; they turned their backs against their admiring audience. Somehow it was quite comical; for at times, the trumpeters would throw away gifts that their audience tossed towards them in awe. Sometimes it hit those who walked by, other times, it landed upon the ground, going to waste.
The friend of the elephant came up to me, he asked a question, yet I didn’t understand. He asked again.
“Would you like to ride an elephant?” He asked again, the sun shining upon his face, making him squint to see me better.
I looked at him, surprised, but I agreed. Who would ever turn down such a wonderful opportunity? He smiled at me then led me away from the feeding grounds towards a platform, where a younger trumpeter was waiting patiently. He trumpeted as he saw his friend approach. Even as a child, these animals were talented, but still arrogant. I smiled at the composer, he let me greet him formally, Nuren was his name, it meant ‘Bright’, and the name seemed to suit this elephant just fine. The elephant’s friend gracefully slid upon the back of Nuren, then asked me to do the same. I wasn’t as graceful as the elephant’s friend, but I did it nonetheless. I sat behind him, my arms around his waist. He told me how he controls the elephant, explained that he had to use the metal prongs so the animal could feel his commands, then off we went. It was a short ride, but it was enchanting. Nuran walked past a water drum. Both the elephant’s friend and I thought he had stopped for a drink. We were incorrect, then soaking wet. Nuren was mischievous, but most children are. The elephant adventure ended shortly after our bath, I dismounted Nuren, yet his friend stayed upon him. I thanked them both then walked back towards where my parents were, they smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but smile back. It had been quiet an adventure. We proceeded to head back towards the bus, it was still a warm day, even with the residue of the elephant’s shower still showing on my clothing.
As we drove away, the sound of trumpets continued to bellow in the distance, but we went further from them, not closer. There was still no rhythm to their music, they were never in time. But they were beautiful. I remember smiling up at the large grey creature; it had given me a sound of approval.