A NIGHT OUT

Last night Jan and I took a break and attended a performance of the Oregon Symphony Orchestra with guest artist Joshua Bell at the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall in downtown Portland. It was a spontaneous decision to go and I figure spontaneity is always a good thing, especially when its so easy to get buried in the consistent rhythms of farm life. As I sat waiting for the performance to begin I took in the opulence of this great restored concert hall and reflected on how blessed we are. Here I am in this great hall next to folks that are dressed in something other than boots and blue jeans. There's chandeliers rather than fly-specked bare light bulbs, beautifully sculpted carpet rather than dirt floor with straw highlights, the tinkling of wine glasses rather than the peeping of insistent chicks, the sweetly mixed smell of perfumes and and colognes rather than - well, I think you get the picture. Earlier in the day Jan cleaned out the chicken coop and I was still recovering from unloading and stacking 3 tons of grass hay in the ram barn the day before. And later, in the same day, we're at a performance of the Oregon Symphony Orchestra - amazing.

One of the pieces played was the "Orchestral Suite from The Tender Land" by Aaron Copeland, one of my favorite composers. The melodies remained with me yet this morning as I did my chores and checked out the health of the pastures. I was anxious to see how they were responding to the recent warm rains and was pleased to see a growth of new grass. This should give the flock some good feed, reduce our dependency on baled hay, and at the very least give the pastures a healthy secure basis as they enter the winter months. Copeland provided a whole new way to view my "tender land" and I gained a whole new appreciation of what we had accomplished here, and what still awaits us. My time in the pasture took a little longer than usual, the sheep seemed a bit more at peace, the clouds were whiter, the skies were bluer, the grass was greener, the rain was wetter, and the warm was warmer.

I think Copeland stuck with Jan as well but maybe in a bit different direction. As I return to the house after my chores, I normally find Jan reading the morning newspaper with her first cup of coffee. This morning I found her barefoot, in my bathrobe, and a pair of rubber gloves on the kitchen porch tending her natural dye pots. I guess beautiful music can move us all.