Did the Martin Trail and across Foxhollow yesterday morning. Easier and a bit faster. Quiet and moonlit. The creek is high with snow melt and winter rain. The lights of town fragment in the mist. Real becomes fairy tale at the edges. In my relentless monkey mind are instants tumbled, silence, emptiness resonant of a life lived it brings me to tears, my small gift to an absent friend.
Howard, my friend and sponsor died yesterday. He used to ask me to get him as much of this Canadian guy – Ed Bickert, an innovative and wondrous jazz guitarist – as I could find. It wasn’t hard to figure why once I listened to it. It may not be for everyone but it sure was something that brought Howard to a happy place. It seems like today is a good day to put some on the box and let it take me where it’s going. RIP Howard K
Photos are © Michael Lebowitz
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