I wake into this morning still wrapped in a cocoon of wonder, pour myself into hot coffee and sunshine.
From this computer two lovely pieces of new music emerge, both via my dear friend Kati Gleiser who is some hundreds of miles away but also next to me, as I write. I listen to Kati’s voice, hear wolves and oceans, and also the phoebe & the white-crowned sparrow through the open windows. There is no wind. It’s as though the world I see is paused in a bow of gratitude. I believe I can hear the plants speaking – chamomile, thyme, mulberry, foxglove…
Last night, 19 young cello players from Meaford Owen Sound and Port Elgin played together in a combined orchestra, beside 9 double-basses, an ocean of violins, a full wind & brass section. There were upwards of 130 of us on stage, with young energy pulsing through the hall like a big Hug of Promise. Wonderful, wonderful. All those characters, from bassoon to trumpet to bass and viola – the tribe of celli like a thundering herd of centaurs, playing in time and in key together.
Huge thanks to everyone who played, to the parents of everyone who played, to Patrick Delaney and Sandy Pedlar for building such thriving music programs in their respective schools, and for Richard Mascall who brought five orchestras and ensembles together into one.
So Flipping Awesome.
I itch to get into the Garden – to tend and dig and coax and listen as everything wakes up and the last of the snow melts. Tomorrow is tree sale day, so we meet in the 6am ritual line to buy maple, birch, oak and cedar then bring them home to the soil and sun that will sustain them long after we have left our bodies for the next chapter of life.
Happy friday, all. I’m going to go get muddy.