Bluegrass Dragon

When you grow up in a musical family*, you are so surrounded by music that you see little need to seek it out. I saw little need to seek out new sounds until not so long ago. And then began my bluegrass affair.

On a recent Wednesday, my roommate, his girlfriend, and I packed up a U-HAUL bigger than our kitchen and drove West. Actually, my roommate did most of the packing, but regardless, we all ended up at Grey Fox Bluegrass Festival in upstate New York. I confess. I had never been to a music festival before, and as an extremely amateur musician, I saw this as a failing. Remedy: Grey Fox!

With our mansion popped up, it was time to head down the hill and check out the music. I could write a detailed analysis of the many bands’ musical stylings, but you wouldn’t give two hoots. So listen for youself:

I also took a pretty sweet shot of someone hula hooping.

Over the next few days, I heard many more gifted artists, and some damn fine tunes. But I also had a hard time letting myself slip into the relaxing bliss that is vacation. Part of me felt that I should be listening to as many new bands as possible.

We could clearly hear the bands on the main stage from our tents, so I ended up staying at our campsite reading for much of the time. And then I realized. That was OK! I didn’t have to get up, walk down the hill, and sit in a plastic chair to experience the festival. I could do it while reading about dragons, the Starks, and an Iron Throne. I just needed to sit back and enjoy the music.

In case you’re wondering, dragons and bluegrass do mix well together.

*Your extended family is basically an orchestra.

“Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity!”

Why should we live with such hurry and waste of life? We are determined to be starved before we are hungry. Men say that a stitch in time saves nine, and so they take a thousand stitches today to save nine tomorrow.

~Walden, Henry David Thoreau

Before you roll your eyes and stop reading for fear of moralizing aphorisms, fear not! I will talk about a trip, not on a road less travelled, but down the Minuteman Bikeway.

The Minuteman trail starts just beyond where I live, and goes all the way to Concord, Massachusetts. I biked through both Lexington and Concord, those cities we first learned about in US History that witnessed the beginning of our Revolutionary War. I rode through forests and marshes, down dirt paths and paved ones. I saw other bikers, dogs, even endangered species!*  When I reached Concord, I went straight to Walden Pond.**

I sat in the sand to read, enjoying the sun, breeze, and pine-scented air.

Walden Pond, Concord

I then returned to Concord, and strolled along its main streets. I found lots of cute, Massachusetts-based shops selling local goods. I also missed my chance to try cheese, which was a serious disappointment. But at least I got this picture 🙂Cheese Shop, Concord

Next time!

I got another scoop of ice cream, this time ginger and vanilla with oreo, because why not?*** I then biked home at warp speed, having found that sweet spot between physical comfort and awareness of surroundings.

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