Alan and I had a fun, full weekend with a gig both Saturday and Sunday. We got to see our friends who showed up, to talk, have a drink and enjoy the places we played at. Bandwagon Brewery just opened up practically around the corner from us and we are thrilled to be playing there once a month at least through the end of this year.
On Saturday when we played there for their Grand Opening, our friends Mimi, Bill and EJ from the Busy Bee came. Some other Bee people came too, but I don’t know their names yet. Judy and Jim were there–my friends of several years. I always ask Jim about sound because he knows what he’s talking about and knows how to make the sound quality great.
On Sunday we played at Barrett Marine in Geneva where our friends Dennis and Sandy have a boat. Dennis got us that gig, which was sweet–playing for a few hundred people while they ate their lunch and chatted. Then we hung out with Sandy and Dennis by their boat for a couple of hours. The day was bright and not too cool and I soaked up the end-of-summer feel.
When we got home and unpacked the equipment, I was exhausted but felt the pull of the sunlit Sunday evening and decided to take a walk. The lake flirted its blue shimmer, the cornfields threw off their golden glow, the cows stared as I passed the first farm and horses watched me from far away as I turned a corner. The Amish must’ve had a wedding that day because the road was busy with a steady stream of horses and buggies on their way home.
I remembered the feeling of summer’s end from when I was small. My mother and siblings would come up from Brooklyn and stay with my grandparents in Interlaken all summer. Right before school started, we returned to the city and I felt so sad to leave what I thought was Paradise behind. The woods, meadows, lakes, fields, waterfalls, birds and other wildlife all would go on through the fall, winter and spring until I came back for another summer. I hated the idea of missing it all. I wanted to see the leaves turn, feel the air become cooler, hear the mornings grow ever more still as birds migrated South.
So there I was walking past farms and woodland with Amish going by feeling as thankful as I knew how that I live here now. I trudged up the hill homeward as the stars came out and sat in the gazebo listening to the night sounds. I heard two barn owls, dogs barking, someone singing far away, more Amish horses clip-clopping on the road and even saw a shooting star. The peace of this place soaked in and filled me with contentment. Eventually, Alan slipped out of the house to make sure I was alright and we sat together enjoying the end of a delightful day.