Sitting in the store, listening to Clair de Lune on the Disklavier, looking out the window at something like this, and remembering a Facebook post I made this morning:
"The thermometer reads 7 degrees Fahrenheit. Taking out the garbage, and then sweeping off the front steps, one inch of fresh powder, listening to chickadees, the sky, light with a sunrise, delayed by lake effect clouds over the south shore, wearing just a hooded sweatshirt and light gloves, the air crisp, cold, clean, and quiet, no wind. White. The thermometer reads 7 degrees, but it feels like spring. "
What a beautiful place to live. And a great place to 'work' every day, doing something meaningful, beautiful, musical.
"The thermometer reads 7 degrees Fahrenheit. Taking out the garbage, and then sweeping off the front steps, one inch of fresh powder, listening to chickadees, the sky, light with a sunrise, delayed by lake effect clouds over the south shore, wearing just a hooded sweatshirt and light gloves, the air crisp, cold, clean, and quiet, no wind. White. The thermometer reads 7 degrees, but it feels like spring. "
What a beautiful place to live. And a great place to 'work' every day, doing something meaningful, beautiful, musical.
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