Photo courtesy of a much more active hike earlier this year in the same area. Taken by the ever talented Philip Neumann!
What began as a quick jaunt around the corner to grab an early cup of coffee ended up as an hour long stroll through Chautauqua open space in the cold clear air. It was so unplanned that I braved the slick ice covered trails in moccasins. I’m sure the squirrels were laughing at my slow, careful steps. But that tentative pace made me breathe with the sleepy world, and bring the fresh day to a manageable tempo.
It’s intoxicating how everything smells different at the sunrise, and how songs you’ve heard dozens of times before can become as new and refreshing as the familiar landscapes bathed in morning light.
I feel less confined. I’m ready, Tuesday. Bring it on.
Patrick Watson's ethereal 2009 release, Wooden Arms, didn't make it on to my end of the year list...but it captivates me with its quiet, glowing beauty. It definitely helped release me this morning.
There was a house halfway round the world,
and I was invited in for a small taste of gin.
There was a hallway thousand birds long,
but the biggest one of all was in a-
cage too small.
I asked the caretaker cause he was the maker.
Looked at me and laughed,
took another sip from his glass and said:
“Open up your ears and heart.
“You put a big bird in a small cage it’ll sing you a song.”
That we all love to sing along,
to the sound of the bird that longs (mourns).
Well we rolled into town, into sweet New Orleans,
to the Apple Bell bar; it was a hole in the wall.
The ceilings weren’t tall, the floors were the ground,
but the sounds you were making just warm your hearts.
Well it was quarter to twelve when the boys walked in.
They put their black suits on and the songs would begin.
You open up your ears and hearts;
you put a big bird in a small cage it’ll sing you a song.
That we all love to sing along,
to the sound of the bird that longs (mourns).
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