new & old

Today, after so long, when Joan Baez played, tingles washed over me. There was nostalgia and remembering, longing and wistfulness, tragedy and love, melancholy and optimism, ambition and hope, uncertainty and clarity, and solitude. It set me on the path for a low, quiet, silent, contemplative day.
Except my contemplation is less and less articulate as the day goes on. And the day seems interminable.