catching my breath at lunch time

no rain and snow this morning…now it’s supposed to be tomorrow morning…and while it’s colder today than the last few days…the sun is still shining…and it’s warm…

this morning i had to start my day in boulder…which means i drive from loveland…through longmont and into boulder…i follow the foothills of the mountains and the scenery along the way is breathtaking…the thing about this morning that was different….was…during the drive in….i didn’t receive a single phone call…..so it was just me…my thoughts and music….

after i finished in boulder…i had to drive into denver….which leads me through commerce city…past the oil refinery …and the railyards….it’s quite a contrast in scenery from where I started my day…

i was thinking…from time to time i listen to radio talk shows and not too long ago the subject was neighborhoods in the east…particularly the boston area where people are born…live their entire lives…including work…in an area that usually is no larger than 10 blocks…it is my understanding that life like this was similar for many people in the past but now it’s getting to be more and more of a rare occurrence for this to happen…

anyway…
the contrast of my daily drive to and from work and during my work day…struck me this morning…and as we move into the summer months once again we’ll be doing work in boulder…which means at least a weekly drive along the foothills…

this morning as i was driving between longmont and boulder i was listening a song from the new james cd ..hey ma...the song is called bubbles…
it’s a typical epic james song…it tells a story and builds to an incredible crescendo…
lyrically it’s just…amazing
and as I drove…it provided a soundtrack befitting to the images in front of my windshield….

james ….bubbles…

"take an axe to your past,
to your family tree
carve a face from the wood,
an effigy

make wings from the leaves,
hide from the bark,
kindling,
for the hair,
rose for his heart

someone to draw you right
someone to catch the light

draw the blue from the skies,
into his eyes,
carve the lines on his face,
a map of the race

juice from the root of a beet for his skin,
set the tides,
of the blood
with the pulse of the drum

someone to draw you right
someone to catch the light
i’m alive
i’m alive…"