Heart and mind, heart and mind.
I was teaching a transcribed Bach Air to one of my cello students today and was brought to tears, once again, by the beauty of that music. Such a dance between air and sea, earth and sky, leaf and root.
I’d forgotten what day it was, actually, until my daughter sang the song at 12:05am. Then she came again at 9am with flowers, a lovely note, and a… cooking pumpkin.? We sat together a while, in the studio.
Then as I worked through the normal wednesday schedule, so very many people offered beautifully crafted birthday thoughts to me, by phone, by email, on social media and in person. The sun shone, the breeze finally required sweater, and my family agreed to meet all together for the first time in several years.
I can call the ocean from a drum. The travel time between here and good friends in Winnipeg is only as long as the hairs on my cello bow. I am rich with astonishing poetry written by two friends, one native, one not, about right here were I sit, right now. And I’ve only just begun to be thankful.
Some days are green and golden.