Summer
The willows, aspen, tall grasses raise themselves above the meadows and tremble in the wind, what must feel like an eternal blossoming, high, splashed in hot sunlight.
The onions, wild flowers, corn lilies, sticker bushes grow in the shade of the groves, close to the ground, wet in most places and packed in by the foot of a bear. Big old pads with claw marks. The downed aspen has the markings of claws from when the aspen was standing.
I snuck up on one the other day. I was probably 5 yards from it, eating in a clearing. It saw me and hundreds of pounds covered in dark fur lumbered silently into the forest. I was quiet enough to sneak up on him, but I can't even walk as silently as that bear sprinted through the brush.
Our aspens are doing okay. The taller one had been struggling and snapped about a quarter way up. The small and medium ones are both staying the same size, with some white spots on their leaves. I worry that it is a disease, but I'll keep watering them and giving them sunlight. With the pandemic, it's an interesting time to be in a band. Shows are off for the foreseeable future which drastically changes the flow of making music. We've been experimenting with new ways of writing that are less about 3-piece live arrangement and more about recording arrangement, which is new for us. But I guess that's what this time is about -- reimagining how to do things. Without the momentum that normally carries us through familiar actions, it is possible to refocus, and change anything we want.
Before we go, Emily is teaching a 20 song challenge workshop through Holland Project on Wednesday:
https://www.hollandreno.org/event/20-song-challenge/
And finally, a couple places to donate:
https://blacktrans.org/campaigns/btac-covid-fund/
https://www.naacpldf.org/support/
Stay cool,
People with Bodies
