old tune

An oboe concerto on the radio recently pulled me away from my work.

I didn't remember the composer, or the name of the piece, but I remembered the music. I had played it once.

I was good by all accounts. At the height of my proficiency my instructor told me that Juilliard was within reach if I worked hard.

The music brought back that time and my breath moved with each phrase, my fingers shifting for notes that I can not name.

What a different life that would have been. I'm glad that I can look back with more fascination than regret.

Comments have been closed