“Now, the first of December was covered with snow
So was the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston
Though the Berkshires seemed dreamlike on account of that frostin’
With ten miles behind me and ten thousand more to go…” James Taylor
10:45 am, December 1, Friday. (Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit), 32 degrees, north wind, low tide and fresh snow. Enough for the state and town to send the snow plows out for a scrape and sanding run but not enough to shovel at our house. Sunrise was at 8:31. Sunset is 3:12, giving us 6:41 minutes of daylight today.
“We didn’t know we have been missing the snow,” Beth said.”But we have.” Also, because we walked later today, a fat tire bike and a dog walker had been here already. Actually, they may have been here before us everyday, but with a few inches of snow, we can see their tracks better.
At the pool this morning, as I was leaving, Stephanie arrived to teach the aqua-aerobics class. She stopped in the parking lot to look at the sunrise, declaring “Thank you, God,” before heading in the door. Last night she joined the altos in the Messiah practice and astounded us with her voice. She sings like an opera star, and kind of looks like one too. She moved here last summer to be near her daughter and grandchild, and it turns out is a forever family friend of the choir director, Nancy Nash.
Matt sang the tenor solo just to practice it before we joined in on the chorus. It was so beautiful, that had we been in a quieter space, a less brightly lit room than the senior center, I would have cried. Comfort ye my people. Is there a nicer, more doable prayer, than that? The old song seems suddenly so relevant.
Matt teaches music at the school and is a bit irreverent (I think teaching band and choir to teenagers requires a quirky sense of humor). The tenors were behind the altos, so I couldn’t see him without turning to stare. Instead I listened. It was as if his voice belonged to another person, from another time, maybe even another world. By the time he finished we were all beaming with wonder and joy.
I was really glad that I didn’t skip rehearsal because it was dark and snowing, and dinner wasn’t organized, and I’d had a long day– and I don’t think I can sing that well, anyway…
On my radio show yesterday, I played Sweet Baby James. I’m humming it now. You know, I don’t think it is a coincidence that the rain turned to snow as Matt and Stephanie and our makeshift choir sang around the big old upright grand piano at the senior center, or that the first of December dawned covered with snow.
