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It was late spring of 1983-ish. My brother Richard introduced our family to jazz singer Dave Grusin's album Mountain Dance. We were in New Mexico driving along a mountain road.
The cassette player was jumping to the beat of the album's songs. Rag Bag, Rondo and Mountain Dance among its many happy tunes. We rounded a corner and began driving along the most beautiful sight.
To our left stood a huge rock face darkened with trees reaching up so high we couldn't see the sky. But to the right, through the aspens we saw a peaceful mountain river flowing over rocks. If I recall, there were still patches of spring snow on the ground. The five of us were captivated by what happened next.
Thanksong played.
We were quiet, mesmerized watching the water dance over the rocks. Sunlight dappling among the breeze-touched golden leaves. Light sparkled.
There was a reverent silence.
When life takes strange turns, memories like these stand out.
My loving family.
Quiet and at peace,
navigating the beauty of created nature.
This post is dedicated to good memories, and may they come flooding in to you when you need them most. May they dispel any disjointed interpretations of life and keep you on the path of thanksgiving. Be blessed today!
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