That really loud sucking sound earlier was me. I was sort of half-consciously but very determinedly p-u-l-l-i-n-g myself out of the morass of sleep that I had submerged myself in after coming home from a 6-hour choir practice today. I think I could have quite easily slept all the way to bedtime and beyond, but somehow my quicksanded brain knew it wasn’t a good idea and rescued me. With the high-pressure front we have sitting over us in Sweden, which has resulted in multiple blue sky and sunshine days of chilly Spring, I don’t really think it was fair to coop us up inside for so long, even to sing spring songs, and the biggest bummer is that I have another 6-hour practice tomorrow.<\/p>\n
Every time I see the word “coop” even in English, I pronounce it “coo-ahp” in my head the Swedish way.<\/p>\n
Walking outside in the evenings this week has been dangerous. It’s too easy to fall upward into the black, black velvet sky. It’s tricked out with diamonds, glittering shards of glass pulling at your eyes, and you can feel the pull in your throat as well as your head tips back and back. There are frost sparkles on the paving stones and a diamond dust coats the stiff blades of the winter-killed lawn. During the day the pale flush of new grass intimates the greening to come. Tractors huff and puff, raising clouds of dust and chaff, turning over the heating earth in striping patterns. Gangs of jackdaws boldly remain by the edge of the road as you drive by, their feathers ruffling in the rush of air from the passage of the cars. They’re not playing chicken, they’re playing jackdaws.<\/p>\n
One of the songs we’re working on perfectly describes the way I feel in the spring. It’s a Swedish classic, a jazz treasure titled Med \u00d6gon K\u00e4nsliga F\u00f6r Gr\u00f6nt<\/i> that makes my heart turn over. I want to go and sit by the water and sing it, lying on my back under the endless blue sky.<\/p>\n
Och t\u00e4nk i parken p\u00e5 v\u00e5ren med \u00f6gon k\u00e4nsliga f\u00f6r gr\u00f6nt och kastanjeblad som paraplyer och v\u00e5ra h\u00e4nder k\u00e4nsliga f\u00f6r allt som \u00e4r sk\u00f6nt. Vi vek en duva av papper i vinden seglade den l\u00e5ngt och den landade p\u00e5 en staty som fick \u00e4ndra alla orden i sin s\u00e5ng. Det regnade men bilderna blev bra, det var ett egendomligt ljus den da’n. Vi fyllde v\u00e5ra \u00f6gon med ljuset och tankarna p\u00e5 allt det nya…jag \u00e4lskade dej d\u00e5\u2014det g\u00f6r jag nu.<\/i><\/p>\n
And just think, in the park, in the springtime, with eyes sensitive to green, and chestnut leaves like umbrellas and our hands sensitive to all that is beautiful. We folded a dove of paper, in the breeze it sailed quite far and it landed on a statue that had to change all the words of its song. It rained, but the pictures turned out well; there was a remarkable light that day. We filled our eyes with the light and the thoughts of all the newness. I loved you then, and I do now.<\/p>\n
I plan to sing through spring. Shall we harmonize?<\/p>\n