Music To My Eyes
By John R. Greenwood
Strolling past a music filled window caused me to stop posthaste. The utter beauty of notes I could not hear swelled my heart as I stood in the darkness peering in. Like a harmless intruder I watched in silent want. That deep desire to plink a gentle tune upon the ivory white keys of a black lacquered upright embraced my eyes. The youthful joy of weathered experience emanated out through the panes of glass and into the courtyard of Hubbard Hall. In silent shadows I yearned for the music beyond the glass, beyond my reach. A painter’s brush could find no greater subject or pastoral scene. I paused in brief elation to gather the noiseless sound of music. My wide eyes openly savored each song played as the sweet melody of this cool November evening brought warmth to my soul and my spirit to windy heights.
I'm sure I would have stopped to listen to the Hubbard Hall music. There always seems to be a more true sound from an "in person," musician or musicians than from a recording. barbara
ReplyDeleteThe curve of a bass, the shine of a horn, the elegant rhythm of a baton - I agree!
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