As the evening makes its final farewells heard clearly, ringing through the fields, the canyons, the hills. As the daylight drains out of the valley with haste, giving way to the inevitable dark hours from which the creatives among us gain their sharpest inspiration. The stars unveil their utmost brilliance despite the impediment of light from the nearby urban center. The scene is invariably set. The wind has picked up in turn. It is like the entirety of the air amassed in the valley has abruptly, and all at once, decided to heave upwards, searching under the cover of night, for a cooler destination. The Common Hillside Daisies, apt to their name by covering seemingly every square inch of the hillside, respond by bowing to the heightening rush. In a way it's commendable, this act of bending but at the same time refusing to give way to an element of their environment that is out of their control. An element that could, at any given moment, threaten to extinguish life that is already measured day by precious day. At least their count is numerous. The Daisies do not have to worry about finding someone to spend time with. The moon is hardly a factor in the proceedings. Light from a headlamp is tasked with filling this role, and does so with greater than expected ability. This is a time for the esoteric loner to sit back and contemplate what it all means and where its heading, succumbing to a slight of due modesty. After all, the presentation brought on by Carrizo, with the Temblors offering a front row seat, is grand and fit for romantics. Those that yearn are not disallowed the opportunity yet. It is only that they cannot immediately grasp the full significance of a night such as this. We are all staring up at the same heavens, whether we realize it or not. Remembrance of a deeply instilled principle assuages impatient concern arising from angst. The celestial bodies, the constellations, the individual stars themselves, respond in tune, gleaming a touch brighter than they appeared before. The universe is always at work, bringing us what we need in order to grow, and if everything goes right, guiding us to the fullest version of ourselves, along with someone at the right moment who amplifies this, sustains it even, in the times when we ourselves cannot. The invisible current has developed a chilling bite. This only sharpens thoughts that race forward. A level judgement is needed to stymie the onslaught before it realizes its captivating power and overwhelms all sensibilities. Such is life. The plain is as good a metaphor as any: winter rains allowing for a short-lived spring explosion that fails to persist through the unforgiving heat and aridity of the summer months, continuing into autumn and the cycle repeats as the year before, only with a different and unexpected result each and every time. Some cycles we are striving to break free from, while others are simply a fact of the matter, an inkling of the bigger picture that is felt and understood in pieces until everything falls into place. Looking over the array of wildflowers, the shining roof of the world, and the shadows tucked into corners for the hours ahead, it's striking, the capacity to be sent soaring at once, and the crushing self-doubt that follows. The greatest potential comes at the consequence of the greatest range in either direction. Once more, Carrizo exists as a gentle reminder. As doubts creep forth, the mind darkens, everything else falls into hushed silence, save for what is always resilient. That is hope, harbored in soulful recesses that denies, each time, the temptation to stop fighting. Great beauty is desired to be shared. And it shall be, just not this time, and perhaps the next as well. It is easy to resort to the usual euphemism. Now is an opportunity to feel the worst instead of lending it time to grow and fester. It comes and goes in waves, coursing in and through at will. When it subsides, it is never really clear for how long. The rhythm of the swaying shadows brings some semblance of peace. Just sittin' in a field on the edge of the range....wasting time....and glad to do it. If loneliness won't leave me be, then we'll share this night.
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