The Beginning

I’m writing this while on the plane to Atlanta, en route to Manchester airport and from there, to Wales. I’m listening to Antje Duvecot singing “Reasonland,” and thinking of two days ago when Clare and her beautiful family came over for dinner, and we hung out in the livingroom afterword, singing and playing instruments to and with one another. S. gave a bass recital of sorts – basically, she was practicing for orchestra camp, and it occurred to me that we should have company over more often. It encourages the basic practicing that should happen daily anyway!

But even if S. hadn’t picked up her bass and played for us – though I’m very glad she did! – it was amazing to have Clare and her daughter harmonizing together like angels, and to see both of the twins playing guitar. We had two guitars out. Clare played some Antje Duvecot songs – figuring out the chording as she went, because she’s that good. And we all sang “This Land is Your Land,” together, with those of us who could harmonizing. As I think back on it, I realize that the dads (D. and Tim) may have stepped out of the room for this display of old-time fun, but it just makes me so happy to know that there are still families in the world who sing together, and to know that we are not too self-conscious to be one of them. It makes me think of a nineteenth century salon, something that encourages the pursuit of art.

In contrast, here I am wearing blue ear buds that are connected to a Macbook Air, typing away and listening to iTunes. I’m not usually someone who is “plugged in” while on a plane, but I have the great fortune of no one in the seat next to me so I don’t feel as much as usual that someone might be looking over my shoulder, judging how I turn a phrase! And I’m writing. Writing! Something I hope to do for the next three weeks extensively. God willing I will have both endurance and inspiration enough to fashion some poems and re-write my novel. While studying more about Dylan Thomas, sightseeing, and working very hard to speak and understand as much Welsh as possible.

This scribbling on the plane, in fact, is a sign (to myself even if no one else ever reads this blog) of my commitment to write. I won’t be able to post this message until I’m back on the ground with internet access, but there’s no reason not to write it. I’ve had my nap and snack and now I’m hoping to stay awake for the balance of this flight (another hour, I believe) and then sleep on the next leg, over the Atlantic. We’ll arrive not long after noon local time – which I think is GMT + 1. But I slept little last night, and I’m sure the two hours I just drooled on myself from SFO to here were not too much to keep me from sleeping again soon. I tend to be rocked to sleep in moving vehicles of all kinds, anyway.

[tried to upload a picture of the view on the approach to Atlanta, but the wifi connection is not cooperating yet!]