Chapter 3, Connections
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
– Robert Frost
We’re singing with Vienna Teng in her front yard, and we are joyful. It’s the first Sunday in May, and I’m with our teenage daughters, Claire and Claudia, at the Water Hill Music Festival, a free, annual, all-afternoon, front porch concert put on by residents for their neighbors and the rest of the world. It’s a blue sky sunshine dancing barefoot in the grass sorta day, and each of us has traveled our own path on the map of music, time, and porches, but now we sing as one people in the ancient pattern of call and response.
There’ll be an evolution of the human soul (soon love soon)
We will know that ...