A black cover envelopes the valley
with a warm May eve

A thousand little lights glimmer in the distance
as stars do in clear night skies

So many people are here now,
the branches of many trees growing full

And still,
a loving Father
watches on, involved as ever

~ Ryan Mendenhall

The Story: Isn’t it amazing how music can bring things to life, pull out the brilliant from that which lies hidden right before your face? I parked my car last night and I continued to listen to a beautiful piece on the radio. Several composers were going through my head. The first few notes rang of Ravel. Programmatic, yes, it’s telling a story. No, the string harmonies have a unique taste that’s not French. Hmm, Copland? No, it was Dvořák’s Symphony No. 9. Yes, that song has themes of the old song Simple Gifts. I knew the piece and it had moved me before. I finally settled on Aaron Copland’s Appalachian Spring as I prepared to exit the car.

In an instant my mind switched focus from this little guessing game to the sea of lit glass when I stood from my car and turned around to overlook the valley. Brilliant! The music was like a magnifying glass, opening my vision to a deeper meaning of the image that was spread out before me. Impressions came as words, but not those above, simpler ones, just to capture them like one would catch butterflies with a net. I didn’t want them to get away.

The whole experience lasted not but 3 minutes, but I had seen purpose in those three minutes.

Side note about my guessing game: The song ended and I was right about it being Copland. I was even right about the piece! Brilliant! Guess those music history classes stuck, yeah? After listening to “From the New World” (Symphony No. 9) though, I stand corrected. Dvořák never references simple gifts. Some parts are almost Star Wars-esque and others kind of Fantasia with Mickey as a Wizard-like. Movement 2 is VERY peaceful. See it live and you’ll be so relaxed. They even provide pillows for the concert goers for this part of his symphony. 🙂

Then, this morning, as I listened to some great Celtic music I felt to pull out the words again. I did so and sculpted the above few stanzas. There’s something almost healing in listening and noting what comes to mind. I find it quite therapeutic, quite necessary.