My last dispatch was from as far away as I could get this summer, the tip of a peninsula off Nova Scotia. After that, we spent a few days by Lake Ossipee in New Hampshire before returning to the Texas heat. I especially appreciated those last few days of vacation knowing they would soon end.
Walking back from the beach by the lake, I started singing to myself: “There’s nothing like the sun and the sand…” and this song was born. That night I fell asleep to the rain in the trees and had a vivid nightmare (as I often did while away). When I arrived back home to happy dogs that needed walking and wilting plants that needed watering, I was glad to be busy back home.
That’s the story told in the verses of this song about how getting away is made sweeter by impending return. And how what we learn while away is buried back in our busy days.
My daughter Anais playing with her cousin in Lake Ossipee on a cloudy day
The chorus comes from another place, Irvin Yalom, a great psychiatrist whose books I discovered last year. In the relaxed mood of unscheduled afternoons I thought about his existential view of the human condition (which you will discover upon listening) and how we make peace on those ideal days with all the difficult realities we must return to.
We recently returned from a week’s visit to Nova Scotia where we stayed in a gorgeous house in an idyllic setting. You can see the Airbnb listing here.
In order to join my artistic 8-year-old at the table, spend less time on my screens, and actually get a vacation, I spent many hours drawing a picture of the house that I had taken.
I finally applied watercolor a few nights ago. It was harder than I thought to wrangle, but as with every aspect of this endeavor, it was satisfying time well spent away from the faster, digitized world.
Darrel and I joined Gray around the baby grand piano again a few Saturdays ago, which Gray had prepared in some interesting ways, as you will hear in a few of these tunes. I am proud of our patience during this session; it is a generally calm, relaxing meditation.
Here are some videos I shot as we warmed up including Darrel with prepared guitar and Gray playing a Steely Dan song called Pearl of the Quarter.
I’m writing from Nova Scotia, Canada, far away from the Texas heat, in a rental house overlooking Brier Island on the Bay of Fundy. The rental said there would be a guitar, but alas, no guitar!
I was about to despair when I looked up to see my mother-in-law—who had wandered down the cove—walking back with a guitar across her chest. She’d met a fisherman named Beau Bobby who spontaneously offered a guitar and threw in three pounds of fresh halibut besides!
So I sat on the porch overlooking the ocean with seabirds singing and composed this acoustic instrumental in honor of Beau Bobby, our seaside paradise, and everyday miracles. I hope it brings you the smell of sea air and the sweet slow pace of a cool summer getaway.
Here are some of my favorite photos from the coast:
