8:30 pm, on the final day of 2012.
I’m on the edge of a tiny old quarry in Canada, witnessing a light-battle between the blazing-hot fire pit and the mostly full moon. It plays out on the foot-deep snow around us – the perfect contrast of indigo and gold.
I have no words for this kind of beauty, and I don’t know much about anything, really.
Sometimes I get lucky enough to turn a musical phrase really well, so none of us ever forget. Sometimes I know how to be quiet and wait and really listen.
So many cliffs. But I think we will figure it out.
2013 – be well.