This morning is a true “How did I get here?” morning.
Was I not in Austin a few weeks ago? Answer: yes. And yet here I am in Ann Arbor, plunged into a totally different group of students and colleagues. This morning I’ll rewrite a few parts for my Giulio Cesare band, practice for four performances in the next twelve days, and go to a colleague’s recital. The scraping of the windshield and the management of snow boots in between these activities will be routine, as will the route to and from school. At the end of the day, we’ll settle into a house that already feels like home.
It’s wonderful. And yet on this beautiful, snowy morning, birds improbably chirping as the morning light brightens, I miss my Texas family very much. And I think on the many other families I miss, and am still connected to: Vienna, New York, Seattle, San Francisco, Phoenix, Minnesota.
All of this because of music. I guess that’s how I got here. And where do you start in that chain of gratitude? St. Cecilia?
I guess I’ll never get done saying thanks. Now, where’s my staff paper?