Producing the Cure

 

In a layback discussion with Hilary this Saturday morning, things turned to ethnic hostilities and racism in the Ukraine. (Let us pray...).

She asked, What do you think might be the cure for this plague? In so many places and so many styles?

I blurted out an answer, almost without thinking: Music joined with smiles, pausing for that moment together. For the past three years COVID 19 has stifled most of that. The masks. The tensions. The sense of mysterious warfare and strain. The absence of casual conversation and involvement. The separation and loneliness. The disappearance of special community events and sports.

But now the restraints are coming off. The signs of spring and freshness are everywhere. Robins and crows let out with their respective choruses. And the crimson cardinals beautify the treetops.

I see all of such happy change when I am out on the sidewalk busking and singing with my harmonicas. I encourage these positive vibes. People appear to enjoy it.   The challenge of the unexpected encounter or adventure now enters into my retirement. With music.    Doug



Day at Niagara Falls years ago.




Sometimes haunting

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