Spring Stream

The Spring stream comes running down, shining refracted light off the snow around it as the water moves along the hillside, its music blending with the new birdsong, creating a composition that signals the end of a long Winter. From tiny tributaries in the frozen fields, the stream gathers its forces, multiplying, growing as the snow gives up its hold on the countryside. A glistening channel through a white and brown palette, reflecting off the earth, the sky. A hand put to the water there would quickly numb and freeze...this is liquid newly converted from its more solid form, still half in its old element. The rippling sound of the water's running is joined by a strange cracking as the ice weakens and starts to break up. The scents of loam and moisture send a heady rush, a sense of the potential growth hiding just under the surface of the soil. The sun shines down out of the blue sky, turning the cycle over out of the darkness and into the light, as in the soon-to-bud trees, oceans of birds sing songs of courtship, joy and of Spring.

The Woods Are Lovely

Rushing through my busy and rather stress-filled day, talking to recording clients, cleaning clients, new associates, working on websites, ebay guitar deals, and huge offices to swab out...and driving the dirt road to town, saw the wood lot down the street, still with its dusting of snow protected from the sun by the sheltering trees. A magical place, with the creek running through it and the light through the branches reflecting off the water and snow like a million diamonds. I'm a very lucky person, and I'm glad I can sometimes have moments like that one, to put everything else into perspective.