Gray. Cold. Damp. Oh yeah, I almost forgot, this is February. I find myself wishing for snow. My friends think I'm crazy. I don't care...
I began my day with a visit to Dr. Barry for my first post-op visit. It's been four weeks since my surgery and all looks good. I'm healing right on schedule. He suggests less Advil and more stretching, and I promise not to lift any heavy furniture and to investigate custom chinrests. I'll see him again in another six weeks. Instead of saying goodbye, see you next time, he says "
Let comfort be your guide". I'm working on that. I squeak out a few notes every day and some days I even fearlessly demonstrate a few shifts in upper positions. This week I attempted up bow staccato. It wasn't pretty but it got the point across. It feels so good to play but it still hurts a lot and the road back may be longer and slower than I'd hoped. No matter. Time is on my side and I refuse to be hurried.
After an impromptu lunch with my sweetie I headed off for a walk in the Lab of Ornithology's Sapsucker Woods. I can't remember the last time I had alone time in the woods. It's been ages. I was on a specific quest today to find my way to Andy Goldsworthy's sculpture.
The path to the cairn isn't marked in any way.
I got vague directions from the woman at the information desk and headed off confidently. I had good cell service so I knew I'd either be found wandering aimlessly in the woods or would be led home via my gps.
The weather's been warm again so most of the snow is gone and along with it most of the pond ice.
The landscape looks deceptively dead but if you look close you'll find ferns and moss already greening up. I admire their optimism. I walked for quite a while on the unmarked trail and luckily just as I was about turn back I glanced down one more time at my map. When I looked up, *gasp* there it was,
right there in front of me.
I've seen other Goldsworthy installations in nature but this one is particularly poignant.
So peaceful and quiet.
So patient sitting there in the middle of the woods all by itself, waiting to be discovered. Sweetly framed by a few saplings and a host of fallen rotting trees.
If I had one shred of artisic talent I'd wish to have the vision of this man who fashions monoliths, eggs and serpentine walls out of nature's most basic materials - stones, leaves, twigs, ice and his own spit.
His work is magic,
alchemy,
inspiration.
It is pure genius.
