Late at night, when the work in the studio is done and Aaron Copland is playing into my soul from the monitors, I let my mind and heart wander. Tonight, after a slug-fest with a song, in multiple time signatures, that shows real likelihood for kicking my too-creative-for-my-britches arse, I listen to THE AARON, and humbly feel the world around me here, near the base and in the shadow of Mt. Tom: Coyotes, sage, skunks, sleeping humans, a thin-but-bright autumn moon, the upper elevations on the Sierra Crest, a few miles away and ten thousand feet above, still being tickled by flurry-remnants of the early-season system that moved out this morning. The stars… the amazing infinite.
And the shift in the political wind is as tangible as any other thing in the natural world around me.
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