Quiet Womb Time (Day 2 of 4) ...

It's one in the morning, and I am sitting on the floor with my Telecaster in my lap. Though I am not a guitarist, I can play a blues progression with my thumb once or twice a year, which I find oddly soothing in a mantric sort of way. The fact that I own this instrument is Jeff Buckley's fault. The fact that I played it tonight is Robbie Robertson's fault.

At the apex of what was a quiet, uneventful day in The Womb, E and I went out for a wander, a bit farther afield this time, through the towns of Piermont & Grandview On Hudson. Every time we think we've explored that area fully, we find a new wrinkle. Tonight's was a marvelous path along the river, at a place called Nyack Beach State Park.

We listened to The Band on the ride home, and I missed Levon and Rick as I am inclined to do, then after everyone went to bed I dug deeper and watched an old Rhino Records video about the making of Big Pink and The Brown Album. It all brought up memories of following Levon around, years ago, when he had a blues outfit that played roadhouses & festivals in the area.

So many lifetimes ago, those nights ... sitting in the grass at The Black Potatoe Festival, driving home in an ice storm from The Stone Pony, and especially that gig right in Piermont where John Simon sat in and I had a hamburger on an english muffin for the first time. So many lifetimes ago, trapped in amber, between the notes of a blues progression at one am.