Day Walks In

When I was about eleven-years-old or so our family moved from the
house I'd grown up in to one on the other side of town. And in my
daily attempts to escape the harassment of the new neighborhood's
bullies I'd often avoid the main road to our new house altogether and
opt for what was a long detour through the woods. It was a tough
neighborhood and I adjusted poorly...

Today's my birthday and while wandering off into a bit of 'man am I
getting old!' introspection, I was struck by how little things have
really changed for me. It's still a tough neighborhood, I'm still
adjusting pretty poorly, and I still opt for long detours through the
woods...

This afternoon I was out hiking, and as I passed by the edge of a
half-frozen vernal pool I crawled off into a pile of leaves and took a
nap of sorts... and as the wind moved the trees I felt the blear of
the sun in the early winter sky through their dense thickets of nearly
leafless branches, and I just wished I could share it... I wished I
could even half-explain it. But I can't. Not in any sort of a
meaningful way at least...

These are the real reasons why I make my "music".

When I was five-years-old I was sitting on the fence in my backyard
under nothing more than the palliating athwart of an altostratus sky
hung over Proctor school early one summer Sunday after dinner, when I
quite unexpectedly found myself completely overcome by some great
sobering jolt.

I make music for that five-year-old and the ancient
thirty-seven-year-old who was napping in a pile of leaves a few short
hours ago.

--Dan Stearns

--- In tuning@egroups.com, "D.Stearns" <STEARNS@C...> wrote:

http://www.egroups.com/message/tuning/16240

Happy Birthday, Dan!

And this *IS* about tuning. Happy Birthday is a tune...

________ ___ __
Joseph Pehrson