The peak foliage has passed but there are still hardy stragglers clinging to the branches. Some of the trees are not quite ready to relinquish their leaves and join their denuded brothers and sisters in anticipation of the coming winter. Another year is slipping through our fingers.
I am not used to being home so much and the lack of scripted organization that being on the road requires sometimes leaves me at loose ends. It is an interesting place to find one’s self. So many choices. What to do, what to do? I have mandated actual practice time for me every day. What a concept! There is time for solo practice and time spent with my good friend John Hurlbut in preparation for our duo show on Sunday the 12th of November.
It is cold here in Southeast Ohio today. Freezing when I got up and just peeking into the low 40’s as nine AM approaches. It won’t be long before the low 40’s will seem like a heat wave!
I find that as age wraps its bony fingers around me it seems more difficult to hold onto a sense of relevance. I remember my father towards the end of his life referencing more than once the William Butler Yeats poem, Sailing To Byzantium. The second stanza meant a lot to him in the mid 90’s as it does to me today.
From Sailing To Byzantium, second stanza:
‘An old man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium’
William Butler Yeats
Sometimes as one might say, ‘Ain’t nothing new but you.’
With these reflections in mind I think I shall load my canine buddies, Maverick and Percy, into the car and take a drive in the morning frost.