Seasons

November 9, 2010

It's an absolutely beautiful day here on the creek. 65 degrees, sunny.  Fall is subtler here.  No bright yellows, oranges, reds.  Instead, rust, sienna, russet. The hoary Spanish moss stands out more without competition from dark green foliage. Brilliant crimson berries on the fading dogwood over our deck, though!  It's disorienting for us Northerners, as lots of perennials come to life this time of year here after struggling and waning with the high heat and humidity of summer.  This mint was feeble and scrawny during the "growing season"; now look at it! 

Mint juleps, anyone?

People set out pansies now for color in the garden. We're warned not to plant most bulbs until December.  For an herb garden planned for around our back steps, we bought a modest rosemary plant at the Tryon Palace plant sale in October.  It should be able to winter over and become a shrub.  But, the North Carolina hummingbirds will have migrated South by the end of October, so today I brought in the feeders to store until next March.

Last Friday I went to a concert by an 18-year-old piano prodigy, Matt Savage, at Pamlico Community College.  I'd never been to that campus, and driving in the dark down Route 306 I kept thinking, "Where the hell am I?"  After passing a cinder-block Shriners hall, a farm or two, and some low ranch houses and double-wides, there was no light on the road, and only the shapes of trees on either side, the road as straight and flat as a runway. Finally there was PCC's sign, and a fully lit parking lot packed with cars.  I was late and sneaked in between numbers. The pianist looked like a skinny Harry Potter, and his sidemen (bass and drums) looked like chunkier Michael Stipes. As they jammed, I thought, wow, must be amazing to have that gift so young, not having to work at it, both as composer and performer. He did seem a little awkward when speaking: "New Hampshire [where he's from] has seasons and Boston has seasons and North Carolina has seasons.  And they're beautiful.  Heh, heh."  Only at intermission, when the house lights came on after a splendid rendition of a Thelonious Monk (one of Mr. Matt's favorite artists) number, did I see in the program that "Matt Savage did not play a musical instrument and could not tolerate listening to music a mere 6 years before taking the stage in 2004 at Birdland.  At age 3, he was diagnosed with Pervasive Developmental Disorder, a...type of autism.  Matt could not withstand sounds of any kind and could not communicate easily." For 4 years, he had intensive therapies, and then "his musical skills flourished at an accelerated pace. Matt taught himself to read and play piano music literally overnight."  So.  So much for my assumptions about how "easy" it is for the "gifted." Loved the show and his music; his New Age/jazz stylistic dichotomy supports the country/city theme in his new CD, and the jazz always keeps the New Age-iness from lapsing into sentimentality. His new CD is called "Welcome Home," and explores his changing idea of what home is, reflecting his move from the family farm to Boston (Berklee College of Music). As a transplant myself, his concept spoke to me.

Also when the lights came up, I could see how..., ahem, mature the audience was. If the performer is in the springtime of his life, seasonally speaking, his audience was definitely in the winter of theirs. Yes, a few younger couples, and even a child or two, but no one of "traditional college age,"--the ubiquitous demographic in the Pioneer Valley.  Lots of gray and white heads. Lots of difficulty navigating the stadium-style stairs.  Probably no Frances Crowes among them--although I don't want to be making any more false assumptions!  Visibly different attire from Northampton, Massachusetts: ladies in appropriate make-up, earrings, and pantsuits, greeting each other with "Miss," a friendly Southern custom I do like:  "Well hello there, Miss Judy."

Bravo to the Pamlico Musical Society (with the unfortunate acronym of PMS) and sponsors for bringing an ongoing and varied series of concerts to the area. As well as South Arts and the National Endowment for the Arts (hooray for our tax dollars at work).

So, this afternoon, off to the tennis courts--another thing that's in season practically year round!