... such a beautiful afternoon to be out wandering around on my motorcycle, i was late getting back to waterville where liz was waiting for me to cook her some supper ... i had covered the bike and was walking across the parking lot when i became aware of a rhtymic beat emanating from the tiny park outside the community market ... making a little detour, i strolled over to see the drummer ...
... perched within the little acoustic shell was a young man, oblivious to the world around, lost in the intertwined percussive patterns his hands were driving from the drum he held securely between his knees ...
... as i began to take pictures he paused, resuming only after i said something to the effect, "go ahead, keep playing, it sounds perfect in this moment" ...
... after awhile he stopped and we talked ... his name is lucas ... he was curious about my picture taking, and i told him about this journal ... i think it pleased him to hear that ... he talked to me about his playing, how it helps him to let go of things he doesn't want to keep inside of himself ... i said, "sometimes, riding my motorcycle, it's like that ... i just don't want to stop" ...
... when i got up to the apartment liz was snuggled up on my sofa ... this picture of the sky was taken yesterday, but i've a feeling in the greater cosmic scheme it's okay to take the sunset from one day into the next, just as i'm sure i'll be listening to the echoes of lucas' hands long after he has left the park and outside my window is only the dark silent night ...