I stopped to think about something today and the hum of my computer made me remember the electric sound of a guitar turned up but when nothing is being played. It’s a sound or feeling where the room fills with a sort of static electric charge. Similar to the sound I got when I recorded Sunrise at Lake Ann when I started the tape to record but hadn’t played the first note yet. That then, took me back to being 17 or 18 and sitting in my second floor bedroom on New England Avenue . . . in mid summer . . . early evening . . . warm wind blowing, making that sound with the leaves of the maple trees. The green/yellow hue of the light, the scent of the humid air. I stop the song I’m playing and just listen. Then I’m in the high-mountain meadow above Lake Ann. Blue and white and yellow flowers only three inches tall create a blanket over the landscape, with a backdrop of the Three Apostles and some other peaks. Listening to the utter quiet . . . except for the breeze. Blest am I. If you’ve never backpacked into a wilderness area, you need to.
I worked with a tech named Manuel Mora when I was 22 and working at Hughes Aircraft. We were having a conversation one night during lunch (he was a former Navy Seal) and he told me that I lived a charmed life. Even with all of the downers that had happened in my life up to that point, I can’t say that I disagree, even to this day.