Love

It is finally chilly here.

I don't know if that's good or not but I enjoy a change.

I was talking to someone today and I mentioned something about marching band and so they got me to start talking about what it was like being drum major.

I tell him a quick anecdotal story, barely scratching the surface about what that experience was like and he smiles and tells me I suddenly did not look stressed anymore.

I don't know if that was because I was talking about band or if the light simply moved to erase the wrinkles on my face but... I didn't say anything but smile.

We say goodbye and I am left wondering, did just talking about marching band really do that much to me? Did just thinking about it for a second make me that happy?

Band camp.
Zero hour.
Turf in my bed.
Percussion.
Brass.
Cold mouthpieces leaving tingly sensations until first period.
Squinting into the sun while conducting.
Tan lines on only one side of me from conducting.
Sore arms and back.
Sore feet.
Chafed neck.
Best friends.
Funny jokes.
Sweat.
The shade from my shako on a Friday night.
Amazing memories.
Great experiences.

I think I could fill up a novel.

It's weird because music programs across the district might have to be cut from elementary through high school. I understand why, I really do but I think I cried.

I made vibraphone for indoor percussion and I am going to do my best to live up to such an honor.

but man, I'm going to miss it.