blue sky, blueberries

rising crescent over the Owl's Head Blueberry Farm

rising crescent over the Owl's Head Blueberry Farm

…Evening summer breeze
Sweet warblings of the meadowlark,
Moonlight in Vermont

That’s how the song goes. A beautiful one, though for an American songbook standard it’s curiously unconventional in its asymmetrical phrasing and lack of rhyming lyrics. We don’t mind. We love it for its wistful nostalgia, and the way it suits every season equally, winter or summer. (Just how many songs about Vermont are there, anyhow?)


the season's last four quarts

I thought about the song tonight (Ella’s version – the ultimate) when the crescent moon appeared around 7:30, as it was getting too dark to pick any more blueberries and the night’s band – Richmond’s own Heckhounds – wound down with their last couple or three country blues numbers. Picked four quarts tonight, and that’s going to be it for another year. That’s two big pies or around 10 turnovers. Maybe a couple dozen muffins, if I use the large tin.

Summer’s ending. As much as I enjoyed it, the thought doesn’t leave me melancholy.

I know the best is still around the corner. Autumn colors, apple-picking, harvests and Halloween and the new beginning of all the fall concert seasons.

There’s always something to look forward to.

…Gentle finger waves
Ski trails down a mountain side
Snowlight in Vermont.

the Heckhounds

the Heckhounds

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