I miss the symphony of insects that spring, summer, & fall provide in the DC night. Tonight I hear plows scraping against asphalt, road salt slapping against my car, and the heater firing up to blow more warm air. My guitar always becomes a bit quieter in this month as my professional responsibilities amp up. Long but satisfying days with our residents, many of whom may be enjoying their final Holiday Season.
Another year when I did not learn a version of "What Child is This" to have available to play. C'est la vie. Perhaps a score in NST will arrive in my mailbox to urge me on to my own wish. Life is good. Last night though my practice was short in duration, I was nourished deeply. All it takes is a few notes of the guitar vibrating against my chest, and I begin to approach a better state of being. One note at a time.
Tonight again, my practice will be brief, but I trust, I know that Music is waiting.