Before the fullness of Holy Week arrives, we're heading "outta Dodge" for a few days of retreat and renewal. Spring is starting to break into the air in the Berkshires... and just in time! Poet Mary Oliver puts it like this in her new collection:
Every spring
I hear the thrush singing
in the glowing woods
he is only passing through.
His voice is deep,
then he lifts it until it seems
to fall from the sky.
I am thrilled.
I am grateful.
Then, by the end of the morning,
he's gone, noting but silence
out of the tree
where he rested for a night.
And this I find acceptable.
Not enough is a poor life.
But too much is, well, too much.
Imagine Verdi or Mahler
every day, all day.
It would exhaust anyone.
So, it is off for quiet and private time before Holy Week. See my bandmates in time for an extended practice on Tuesday.
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