Run Through Me

I know, this is sort of a weird title. Gimme a moment to explain... When I was a student at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, I performed in ensembles to retain my music scholarships. I'll never forget the first day of symphonic band practice. The conductor took the podium and cued us to tune to "Concert C."

I almost toppled out of my chair when the thunderous and perfectly united sound of the group reverberated through my rib cage. As a saxophonist, I was seated in front of the brass section and {{ BOOM }} when they hit the note, it went right through me.

You see, I came from the tiniest of rural high schools in southern Wisconsin. When my little old high school band tuned, well, let's just say it was not nearly as impressive as the University of Wisconsin equivalent. 

That magical experience of having something flow through me is a feeling that I've only occasionally recaptured since. The closest approximation in my current life is when I'm outside and I witness a moment so amazing with beautiful light and colors that it takes me back to the same exhilaration that I felt while performing music. 

This subject comes from Yellow Creek Falls just as the sun was beginning to fade behind the mountains. I loved the beautiful warm light that infused the landscape. The gentle glow resonated through me - sort of like that Concert C - and it was a perfect counterpoint to the cool, cascading water.