When you rise in the early morning long before the sun’s first light 

you have this wonderful opportunity to eavesdrop on the music of the night.


If you don’t hear the music at first…wait!…it won’t be long…

before the crickets, whom you never see, choose the rhythm of the song.


Once you catch the rhythm…just as your body begins to sway…

as if the maestro pointed in their direction…the woodwinds begin to play.


Their music enters from every direction as you walk through the neighborhood…

The melody changing depending on how the wind chooses to whistle through the woods.


The woodwinds can enter loudly on a gust…or softly on a gentle morning breeze…

either way….wherever you turn…there is music in the trees.


Just as you’re thinking to yourself…is there a better way to start the day…

the birds pick up their horns…and the brass begins to play.


If you’re lucky…and you listen closely…sometimes the music of the night…

offers a violin concerto…of the hummingbirds in flight.


Some walks take a little longer…you stop more often…close your eyes knowing you don’t have to see…all you have to do is listen to nature’s morning symphony.


Sadly…when the sun begins its rise…the symphony quickly fades away…

as the music of the night relinquishes the stage to the music of the day.


But another symphony begins tomorrow…if you rise before the sun’s first light…

another opportunity awaits…to eavesdrop on the music of the night.

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Listening to music, like the Grammy’s, I’m always amazed at the power of a melody…

how it can make you smile…cry…or fall in love…how it can create a memory.


How we silently listen to some songs as if we’re in a trance…

while other songs lift us off our feet and make us want to dance.


I imagine there’s a special time in our life…I’m not sure when or where it starts…

when certain music…a certain song…imprints itself upon our heart.


Within our souls it drifts…until it finds a comfortable place…

Its notes indelibly written on the lines across our face.


A time when that music…that song filled a space and made us whole…

I suppose that’s why we have an affinity…a love…for the first music that ever reached our soul.


I suppose that’s why, as we get older, we crave the music from before…

and why you hear some old folks saying, “They don’t make music like that anymore!”


Still…we try to listen to the new music…the young musicians…the newest bands…

even though we do not recognize who’s singing…and most words we cannot understand.


But every now and then a new song…a new singer comes along…we don’t know when or where it starts…but that new song they are singing imprints itself upon our heart.


Within our soul that music…that song…finds its own unique and comfortable place…

and its notes become indelibly written on the lines across our face.


Perhaps that’s why, as we get older, we have more wrinkles…more lines across our face….for the new notes to be written…as new songs …ind within our souls…

their own unique and comfortable place.


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It’s funny how each generation thinks their music is the best

that the songs of their youth are the best songs…

and how each generation knows that they are right…

and every other generations out there must be wrong…


For instance my generation listened to the Beatles, the Jackson 5…

we felt like dancing…we came alive.

We listened to James Taylor and Stevie Wonder too.

Karen Carpenter…what a voice…Simon and Garfunkel was a choice,

we listened to Three Dog Night and a band called the Guess Who.


There was Norman Greenbaum, the Temptations…the tunes of our young generation

with the music playing our heartbeats all increased.

We could have been a little smarter…we did listened to Patches by Clarence Carter

okay, we were eclectic to say the least.


Neil Diamond kept us grooving…The Supremes kept us moving

We listened to 8 track tapes inside our cars.

We sang along with the Kinks and Four Tops…we danced without shoes at sock hops

Credence Clearwater Revival we affectionately called CCR.


In sharing this music with each other…we became our sisters and our brothers.

We liked the way the music moved…we liked its rhyme.

Why…is difficult to say…but music had a way

of linking us all together over time.


And though it’s hard now to behold…how we and our music have grown old

separated by time and often distance

I’m sure my generation would agree…even those who sang off-key

those songs were vital to the heart of our existence.


Which is why we not only have a knack…but we love looking back…

and listening to those wonderful old songs…

I imagine that’s why whenever we hear…a song from our past…we cheer

and why we pump up the volume…and sing along.


So my case…I must now rest…it’s plain the music from my generation is the best…

and why the songs from our youth are the best songs…

And though you might have the temptation…to think the same about your generation..

I’m sorry to say…you would be wrong.

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Here is a recent question posed to me that I needed time to think about…

What are the things in this world…I cannot live without?


Looking past food and water…the things my body needs in order to help it thrive…

I thought I’d concentrate on those things my heart and soul need to survive.


The first, for me, is love in all it’s many forms…like the love of my family and friends…Yes, love is definitely something in my life I never want to end.


The second would be hope…for even in my darkest times…when I was filled with doubt…hope was standing by my side telling me…things would all work out.


Any time a storm hit my life…no matter where or when…hope was there to remind me…the sun will shine again.


Perhaps that’s why I love sunrises so much…although this may seem a bit cliche…because rising with the sun each morning…is the hope of a new day.


The third thing would be beauty…for as long as I’m awake…I love my relationship with beauty…our subtle give and take.


For when the beauty I see around me…in the land, the sea, the air…finds its way into my heart…I begin to see more beauty everywhere.


Music would be next up…all the different types of music that I hear about…especially the music of nature…something I don’t think I could live without.


The roar of the ocean, the whistling of the wind, the sound of a single raindrop pinging…how you never know on a walk in nature which birds will be singing.


I’m sure there are more things I can’t live without that if I thought harder I would find…but these are the first four things that popped into my mind.


I don’t think it’s a coincidence that when I read this list backward…(the list I just made up above)…music, beauty, hope…all lead back to love.


No, I don’t think it’s a coincidence at all…in fact…I have do doubt…

Love is the greatest gift of all…and something I cannot live without.

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He loved the nights when it was just the two of them

when his mother would take out her guitar

and they would sit together in the grass as she’d play music under the stars.


There in the cool of the evening he felt safe, secure and calm…

It’s where he realized he loved her music as much as he loved his mom.


One night as he leaned against her…listening to her show

he looked into his mother’s eyes and asked,

“Mom, where does the music go?”


She smiled as she picked him up and sat him on her knee…

“There’s magic in the music.” she said, “but not everyone can see.”


Every time a note is played it hovers in the air.

She picked a string on her guitar then pointed

“Do you see it…floating there?”.


“Keep watching as it only lingers for a short time before it travels far…

“I see it Mom I see it! He said. “I saw it land upon that star!”


Next she played a chord and he watched the notes hover for a moment 

a musical avatar…until they flew up to the sky and landed on a star.


“Some notes are rather slow”, she said, “and some, you’ll see, move quicker.”

“But they all end up on the stars.” she winked.  “That’s what makes them flicker.”


And to this day he smiles when he looks up as he walks under the night sky

Listening for its melodies….so he can watch the music fly.


As it reminds him of a time long ago when his mom would take out her guitar

the night she taught him how to see the notes

as they journey to the stars.

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Each generation has its own music imprinted on its soul with all the emotions that it brings.

We have the beats we like to dance to and the songs we like to sing.


Our music tends to stay with us…no matter how old we get.

The music of our youth…is music we’ll never forget.


Perhaps that’s why, once the music of our generation

gives way to the next generation’s style

whenever we hear music from our past…we have a tendency to smile.


For once that music hits our ears…our hearts begin to stir

as we think about the person we are today while remembering who we were.


I tend to think of the people in my life as music…each playing a certain role…

each person is a different song…imprinted on my soul.


Some people’s music will stay with me…no matter how old I get

because the music I associate with them…is music I’ll never forget.


Perhaps that’s why once their music has been ingrained in me

once I’ve experienced their particular style

when they’re gone and I hear their music…I have a tendency to smile.


For once their music hits my ears…my heart begins to stir

and I am thankful for who I am today…because of who they were


Because like the music of my youth…their music tends to stay…

and though it sometimes fades into the background…


it will never fade away,.

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Music is a form of liquid art that, when you close your eyes,

will paint a picture in your mind with a paint that never dries.


And being that it’s liquid…music has one solitary goal

to paint all the crevices of your heart and every corner of your soul.


Each song creates a different painting with it’s first note…

it’s christening

depending on the words….

the tune…

and on the person listening.


Music can take us to a myriad of places all from the comfort of our seat

or, before we know it, can lift us up and have us dancing on our feet.


Music can make us laugh, 

can make us sing…

can make us cry

sometimes it’s so magical it’s as if the notes are floating by.


Music can burn like fire…its heat hot enough to make us scream

It can flow fast and hard like a raging river…or soft and cool as a mountain stream.


Music can wrap us in a sheet of ice that we slowly chip away

or warm us like the sun peeking through the leaves in the shade of a summer day.


Music can feel like medicine…healing us when we’re sick

or it can feel like butter…like Butta!…as it spreads over us…warm and thick.


But as exquisite as is the artwork from music’s liquid composition

what makes it elegant

what makes it beautiful

are the hands of the musician.


For once they touch their instruments…

and we see that sparkle in their eyes

we know it’s time to hold on to our seats

because colors are about to fly.


Soon we find ourselves floating a sea of colors

and we smile

we close our eyes

as a picture is painted in our mind…


with a paint that never dries.

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I have heard it said…perhaps the rumor spread while listening to a band…

how music is one language every heart can understand.


I wonder if the key…to any tune or melody is how quickly it can make you dance

how by listening even for a moment your existence is enhanced.


I have also heard…somehow got the word…did someone take a poll?

how the moon can be like magic…magic for the soul.


I wonder if the key…to the moon at least for me is when under her for a little while

I cannot help but feel good…I cannot help but smile.


Over the years through laughter and tears…this I’ve also come to know

how water helps to nourish my heart and help my soul to grow.


I wonder if water’s key…of course it has to be…besides it’s natural appeal

Is how it makes me think…and how it makes me feel.


But something happens to me…when I combine all three…

music, water and the moon

The language of my heart and the magic of my soul are blissfully in tune.


So if you have some extra time to spend…I whole heartedly recommend

Take yourself, your wife, your son…your daughter..

and sit under the moon

listen to some tunes


and make sure you’re somewhere by the water

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I’ve often heard him playing his violin…his music has a way

of finding its way into my heart…be it night or be it day.


He plays outside while looking up…always in the same place

underneath the power lines with a smile on his face.


He has no music in front of him…it seems to flow from somewhere within

but there he sits day in…night out…this old man and his violin…


I asked him once how he does it…how does he find a way

to play a different song each evening…a new song every day.


He pointed up to the power lines…then played some of the most beautiful music I’d ever heard…

“It’s really very simple.” he said…”Each day I play the birds.”


The power lines are my musical staff…when the birds land there each day

I don’t have to think about it…all I have to do is play.


“But what about at night?” I asked…”You play different music…

different tunes with different bars.”

The old man smiled

“When the birds go to sleep in the evening,” he said…


“that is when I play the stars.”

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