by Esther Elizabeth Suson
A clear, iron bell-like tone cut through the sunlit afternoon air, and I looked up and out my window. Across the street and two houses away, two men were loading a truck of chest-height oxygen tanks. The tanks glanced off each other lightly, sending out higher, carefree tones; or sharply, emitting the deeper tones that had caught my attention. Sometimes two notes sounded at once, discordant. It was not out of place with the open skies and asphalt roads of the subdivision, natural beauty and man’s design combining.