In his prologue to A Death in the Family that Samuel Barber musically interpreted as Knoxville: Summer of 1915, James Agee asked, "And who shall ever tell the sorrow of being on this earth … in a summer evening … among the sounds of the night?" I wouldn't describe summer evenings on earth as full of sorrow, but they're sometimes so glorious that looking back at them fills me with sadness because they're no longer here.
Running through Faneuil Hall very late on a summer night after loving an al fresco dinner. BBQ at La Jolla Cove with waves breaking on the shore. Back stoop urban paradise with steaks on the grill, salad ingredients from the community garden, and endless conversation that's mostly about hope for the future that happens to be upcoming fall and winter activities. These people know me, appreciate me, and assume we'll belong to each other for a long time to come.
Looking back at these makes me sad they're no longer happening. Is there anything I can do to create updated versions?
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thanks for visiting—peace and hope to all of us!