A few years later, my father brought home an old upright piano with one key that didn’t work at all, and I learned to play my favorite song, “Somewhere over the Rainbow” on it. Later, in life, I learned to play snare drum for a Scottish Bagpipe Band, and now, learning to play bagpipes. So, in a way, I still realized my goals—I am a performer—a professional, getting paid for my performing—and I love it. I can’t wait to start writing tunes on the bagpipes!
“Somewhere Over the Rainbow” is sort of a mantra for Capricorns, I think.
Prose…Draper style…
As dusk approaches on another day, I sit on my deck and watch the fireflies, who, by day, hide themselves in the tall grass. As the weather cools, and the sun disappears over the horizon, they crawl up the long, reedy stalks, flashing code as they rise, and take flight into the night like a million little lazers, seeking their companions, and whizzing past my ears. When full night arrives, they become beacons to those that come after—the headlights of a passing car on the road half a mile away, and the sound of an errant motorcycle, probably a Harley Davidson, piercing the silent vigil of the fireflies of the night. Fog advances, and everything disappears as if by magic. Millions of crickets sing song and frogs croak in their basses and tenors. The world reappears in a silky haze once dawn breaks, but for now, the night is quiet and deep, save for the bark of the red fox, and the spooky hooting of the barn owls. I am alone in my perch, watching and listening to night sounds.
Writer, yeah, that’s right.
Goodnight all!
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