Tonight finds me in the basement of a coffeehouse in downtown Yakima. Little did I know that tonight was the first night of Yakima’s Folklife Festival. Bluegrass in a coffeehouse in Yakima. Old love songs, sung by a husband and wife. Two guitars and a mandolin gathered round a large mike, each shuffling closer as their solos approach. What a thing – to sing duets with your wife of 30+years – to sing them and sound – amazing.
Gathering flowers for the masters bouquet – beautiful flowers that will never decay . . . I’ve never watched a bluegrass band before, listened to many – but never sat down and watched and watched, sat down and listened.
Skill is such a beautiful encouraging thing. I don’t know if the skilled people I’ve met are aware of this. I watch you bake, I observe you lead, I listen to you parent. So often it’s the little things that you don’t find impressive. The way you handle the tools of your trade. Practiced hands – fingers which act of their own volition.
“Bury me in bluegrass when I die”
It is quite fun to sit and observe. Amazing the things you learn when you're the fly on the wall.
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