Still looking for the definitive picture of the Fergus sessions, but this seems to capture something. We don’t spend the whole time in stitches, but now and then somebody twinkles and the room roars. We’re there for the tunes, but this is also good.
I don’t know why this confuses some people. It’s really quite simple.
Question: What is the plural of bass?
Answer: More bass.
What’s confusing in that?
I promised myself I’d try and get a picture of the last flowers in the garden. There’s something a bit special about the last ones. I found these hanging out the back by the daisies, a bit of a surprise actually. I imagine they’ll be around for a couple of days yet, but they seem to be the ones left standing. And we’re well into November. I seem to remember having snow on the ground at this time of year, snow that didn’t disappear until spring. I know winter’s coming, and I’m okay with that, but these made me smile.
Dylan. It was great. It was Dylan doing Dylan, apparently a thing he continues to do so well. He played and he sang so fine and he rang the changes and a perfect watchtower encore and it was a mister jones just right, band knows how to groove so keep it going kind of night. I couldn’t have asked for better so I didn’t. It was absolutely here and now and I could also completely get what showing up with this rockin’ sound would’ve done to people back when who were expecting a guy with a guitar to do a solo concert in a quiet hall. It must’ve been great fun to be playing that back in the day, sure would’ve been something to see. Apparently they could be loud. Very loud. Meanwhile this night rocked just right, we all had a good time and would have happily heard more, which means it was about perfect. So yeah I guess I had a good time too. Nice to share it. Thanks.
It’s the last of the golden leaves, and I’ve been preoccupied every other sunny day. So I sent myself out and said not to come back until I had a picture. There’s something about the rise to the sky in this one that catches my eye. Kind of gets what the fields are like around here just now, too. I don’t think it’s the definitive golden leaves picture, but nice to have it anyway.
I’ve wanted to share this with you for a while. Yes it’s real. The smiling fellow in the middle is my dad, the picture is a favourite. I don’t know what delights me most about it–the unusual subject matter, or the fact that it’s had pride of place on the table among the various family portraits for so many years, which somehow suggests that it’s three family members. Perhaps out for a picnic.
At which point I am suddenly reminded of that story about the delivery guy who had to go to the airport and pick up an unusual load, a bunch of penguins. He was told to take them to the zoo. Simple enough. But several hours later the zoo calls the guy’s boss, frantic with worry because there’s no sign of the delivery guy or his load. The boss gets in his car to drive down to see if he can figure out what’s happened. He’s gone only a few miles before he sees his driver walking along the downtown sidewalk, followed by a waddling line of flightless birds. The boss stomps on his brakes, rolls down his window, and yells out to get the guy’s attention. “Hey! You were supposed to take those penguins to the zoo!”
“I did!” the driver responds cheerily. “And now I’m taking ‘em to a movie.”
A long day today, I’ll tell you about some of that another time, maybe tomorrow. For now I wanted to share this with you, one of my favourite places, just a few feet from the edge of Niagara. There is something about the moment in time or space where a thing turns into something else. And if you find someone standing there chances are they’ll be an artist. There’s something about places of transition that draws an artist.
At the corner of the shed is a thistle patch. A garden can have all kinds of beauty. Sometimes it’s pretty flowers, sometimes it’s all those shades of green together. Sometimes it looks like this.
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