still cling to the vine
i'll take your strawberries
i'll drink your sweet wine...
i heard the first few chords of the song as it wafted through the underground passageway. the lyrics played in my mind as i neared the source of the music. a woman, not young nor old, was playing her acoustic guitar. a few passersby, almost flying through to reach the subway train that was on the approach, flicked some coins at her open guitar case. i wanted to get to the train myself, but since only work was waiting for me at the office, i slowed down until i got near the woman.
sensing my stilled presence, she looked sideways at me and smiled as she continued to pluck at the strings.
"i know that song," i said.
"i forgot the lyrics," she said laughing.
"today while the blossoms still cling to the vine." i recited the first line.
"ah! yes." she then started to sing. her voice, raspy and low, didn't fit the song. she should be singing jazz or blues. i leaned against the wall as i stared at her guitar playing and listened closely to her voice. more coins, loonies and twonies, the occasional five-dollar bill, got tossed her way. when she finished, i clapped my hands and she gave a me a curtsy to which i laughed.
"you're great!" i said. "you should be on a stage or arena with fifty thousand people listening to you."
"you're very kind," she smiled. "do you know how to play the guitar? i noticed you were looking at my hands."
in high school, i taught myself how to play the guitar but i learned plucking the strings only in my mid-twenties when the first mr. summerfield paid for guitar lessons at yamaha school. "today" was one of my two recital pieces. i have not heard the song nor had it entered my mind in a long long while.
john lee loved it whenever i played it. i remember he cried the first time he heard me play and sing it. i had borrowed someone's guitar when we went on a weekend getaway. the week we came back he told me that he had a gift for me. "a gift?" i asked to which he nodded yes. then i said, "no strings attached?" he laughed shaking his head and he said "you are very clever. yes, there are strings attached." when he brought the guitar that evening, i played the song for him.
john would have been 85 today had he lived. i couldn't recall anymore how his face looked like unless i look at one of his photos that i have taken. i had visited his grave in missouri only once, when i first visited the states after i had migrated to toronto.
all these are like from a million yesterdays, but hearing the song, it made me remember some of the good old days.
Your narrative has a sad but sweet lilt to it. And the photo makes me realize how the shedding light on memories brings back the past but never as clearly as when it happened.
Memories of specific details such as faces are like these leaves, somehow made more beautiful looking back the light from behind.
@northy - very slow. i would imagine tonight would be more stressful. movers don't come in until mid-afternoon tomorrow though so hopefully all goes fine. thanks. this weekend is the end of the light show at dd. let's find some time if we can.:-)
A magnificent image with all the light and shadows combining to make a fabulous composition. Thanks for the intriguing look into your past as well as the observant commentary about the subway artist.
Aren't memories just the most wonderful thing, a jolt of times gone by. Beautiful photo Vikki. I have taken some of fountains abbey for you, I must post them.
@claireuk - yay! if i don't comment on it right away it's because i don't have internet. I'm moving to another apartment unit in my building tomorrow that's why. you're well, i take, my lady?
@summerfield Yes all good here thanks; hope the move goes okay I have seen a couple of your posts and to be honest you'll be lucky if I post it before easter anyways:0))) Take care cx
@summerfield hopefully we can make the weekend work... lots of kid hockey this weekend as it's the finals... I'll check the schedule... good luck with the move tomorrow!
Memories of specific details such as faces are like these leaves, somehow made more beautiful looking back the light from behind.