Thursday, April 10, 2008

Not much to See Much to Listen to

It was a foggy Thursday morning in New York. Every where you looked there was a thick gray mist that obscured one's view in every direction.
It was a kind of murk that somehow even made my thoughts feel dull, with no point or edge or even brightness.

The sun struggled, in the early dawn, to push back and vaporize the damp veil, but instead hid, in the soft hush of the sky.

The streets looked as though life had stopped. That people for awhile, had no reason to get up and go. Better to huddle indoors, over hot cups of this and that. And, just wait, for the bright call that might not come on such a day heavy with gloom, were no shadows could rise or fall.












Nature had its way. No bright bits of man's invention would lift the weight of unseeing obscurity.







And in a small park I heard a bright sound pushing through the dim. If filled the stillness of the earth with a sweet melody that could not be held down by cloud and sky.

One lone goose stood and stared on big black webbed feet. Who knows what he saw, but I do know what he heard to capture his attention, and keep him from splashing away in the murky pond beside.

It was just some musicians rehearsing. Not a performance, not perfection, just getting better, and pushing back the damp cloak of gray for at least a little while.
video Click the button to hear what the goose and I heard.

5 comments:

Priyadarshan said...

Wow, I did not know you had such a nice site!

Thank you so much for your story, your inspiration, and your being there.

Priyadarshan

Shardul said...

Hi Utpal,
Thank you for this very nice post. I am a fog-lover from way back. When I was a child, we used to have very foggy mornings in Auckland during the winter and a lot more rain than we experience these days. On the foggy mornings, especially when it was very thick, I would take forever to walk to school and I was always late. The fog would make me very 'indrawn' and I would happily be in my own world walking very slowly and enjoying the fact that one could not see what was ahead. Each step was like a step into the unknown. Of course, I always got into trouble for being late on those days, but it was well worth it and I didn't mind.

anuday said...

Hey what time is it? Oh I know 25 or 6 to 4. Ha Ha!

Aditya said...

Beautiful shots, especially the group in colors against the backdrop of the misty morning.

And your lines are very poetic, Utpal.

He Chanakhya, you are right, it was 25 or 6 to 4. Quite early anyways. Must have been something in my subconscious, but it blended very nicely with the song...

Anonymous said...

I never saw the actual performance, so I am happy to have seen it here. I quite liked that arrangement!
Great guitar work Aditya


Pavaka