PHOTOS:Mary van Balen
Short gray hair replaced the long dark cascades that framed her face in younger years and some songs were voiced in a lower pitch, but Joan Baez still sang songs that called blessings on the poor and homeless, the "salt of the earth," that lamented the injustice suffered by "deportees," and that called for peace.
Her voice occasionally soared in the same hauntingly clear tremulous soprano tones that had filled concert halls and farm worker's fields in the 60's and 70's. More often, the sound was softer, and once the ending of piece appeared sooner than expected, dangling awkwardly for a moment between her and the young man who was accompanying her on guitar.
"We love you, Joan!" someone in the audience shouted.
She looked up. "Even with all my flaws?" Read More
Short gray hair replaced the long dark cascades that framed her face in younger years and some songs were voiced in a lower pitch, but Joan Baez still sang songs that called blessings on the poor and homeless, the "salt of the earth," that lamented the injustice suffered by "deportees," and that called for peace.Her voice occasionally soared in the same hauntingly clear tremulous soprano tones that had filled concert halls and farm worker's fields in the 60's and 70's. More often, the sound was softer, and once the ending of piece appeared sooner than expected, dangling awkwardly for a moment between her and the young man who was accompanying her on guitar.
"We love you, Joan!" someone in the audience shouted.
She looked up. "Even with all my flaws?" Read More
When my alarm rang this morning, I struggled to leave the comfort of my warm bed. A schedule change required a half-hour drive for allergy shots before work rather than after. The day was gray and rainy. After visiting the doctor's office, I decided to stop at a local Panera's to pick up a breakfast sandwich and coffee; the drive to work was close to an hour and the day would be long.
This morning I stopped at the grocery store on my way to work and bought boxes of animal crackers to share on Saint Francis' feast day.
Another cool, blue-sky day. I rose early to bake a carrot cake before driving off to work. A friend's birthday is Monday, and this particular recipe requires refrigeration for two days before icing and serving. A kitchen that smells of spices and carrots justifies an earlier than usual start to my day. After making counter top room for cooling cake, I noticed the striking color combination of drying Italian chili peppers and chestnuts waiting to be roasted.
On the last two mornings of September I walked with a friend along paths that wended through her property. New England Asters, golden rod, bindweed, and bittersweet splashed color across fields of browning green grasses and dark stalks that once held summer flowers. Fog hung hundreds of spider webs with crystal drops revealing the variety of design: some webs lay close to the ground, others hung between tall grasses. Later, we sipped tea and ate a breakfast of dates, nuts, and thin toast with butter. A perfect way to say good-bye to summer and September.