Twilight has always been my favorite time of day. In the redwood country, it has become more so.
Twilight in the Redwoods
Wow, Richard!! This must be you most beautiful piece yet. I simply loved that. This one is going straight to my collection of your pieces on my iPod. Thank you.
My Music Site
Pour être grand, il faut avoir été petit.
I'm listening to this through very cheap speakers at work. For whatever reason, I can hardly hear this piece through these speakers. When I go home from work, later today, I'm going treat myself for another listen. But what I heard seemed quite beautiful, Richard. Twilight is a beautiful time of day. My wife and I purchased our home in large part because of how the sun sets over the nearby hills at the end of the day. Especially during warm summer months, there's lots of reds and greens as the sun finally sets. The music seems to capture this.
Thank you for sharing. . .
Music and humor are healthy for the soul.
Beautiful twilight evocation, Richard.
I had the same experience as Ted, finding the recording much softer than usual--I had my speakers turned up all the way and its still not very loud. -?
Thanks for letting us hear yet another side of your musical soul.---Ah, the light is filtering through the majestic Redwoods as I type.
You've been a busy man, lately, Richard!
The sombre, gentle tenderness of this... with just the lightest stroke
of wistful mystery and foreboding to it -- a lovely nocturne, my friend.
I shall come back to this later with pleasure, when the sun is setting
and the mood most fitting...
A sooo very nice melody!
Richard, I saw the redwood country only by pictures, but I think I can there in thoughts imagine....., with this very fine composition.
"Music is the shorthand of emotion." Leo Tolstoy
Listen to me, tuning my triangle http://www.box.net/shared/ae822u6r3i
Very nice indeed.
ABout half way through I was looking for some rhythmic changes and then there they were. All of a sudden I could see water trickling underfoot, smell fungus growing on trees as the sun made its way down. I would have liked some kind of hanging end, but what would I know?
Thank you for sharing this.
Some six and a half years ago I had to move from the country to Sydney and I wrote a poem about my feelings about that - I think you may, (or at leastg I hope you), like it:
The dappled sunlight
Filters through the aged trees,
The breeze caresses branches
Bringing hints of the faraway.
The song it sings fills the forest .
Their calls echo through the trees
Insects insist on being heard
While animals betray their existence
With sharp, sudden sounds.
The air carries a symphony of sounds,
A smorgasbord of smells.
Damp soil is rich with promise.
Leaves, moulds, mosses mingle -
The stuff of life is everywhere.
Yet, an underlying silence envelops
And enraptures those with ears to hear.
Outside, oblivious, a corporation sees
Only that it wants to seize
And screams “Mine, Mine, Mine!”
In another place
The sun burns down on barren concrete
The wind whistles through power lines, around corners
The relentless drone of engines pervades all.
There is no silence here,
There is no smell, no beauty,
No life stuff.
The animals here have made this place.
They know no other way,
No other place,
As it was,
As it should be.
The noise drowns out all -
Those with ears can’t hear.
And the animals scream “Me, Me, Me!”
After hearing it through three times straight, I have changed my mind about the end. I like it how it is.