Tanglewood

Continuing with my out-of-sequence-late-night posting, here are a couple shots from Hazel's first concert -- Crosby, Stills and Nash at Tanglewood. We popped sparking wine; Hazel capered about in the evening cool; we waited in vain for them to play Marrakech Express. CS&N is still political, still pushing back against the forces of complacency and excess. But it was an odd message given the crowd (middle-aged money) and the setting (gorgeous manicured green). Hazel dug the music. (See below!)

Weirdly, a dude pops out of our bottle. Huh?
The clinking part is a favorite of Hazel's. She drinks lemonade.
They start to play...
-- she starts to dance.
And then she slept.

The dancing, caught for all time. Paul calls her technique "German Interpretive."

A few late thoughts

It's hard to start new. But on we ride. Here are Paul and Hazel on an after-dinner swoop (a couple weeks ago) through the corn fields down yonder. Deerfield sits in the Pioneer Valley, on top of 28 feet of topsoil, surrounded by some of the richest farmland in the country. The cows are huge, and wary of bikes.Undulating, slightly burred lines -- corn and hills, plus uncertain movement of the one-handed rider (and the waning light of dusk).
Serene finish to the ride -- we rode out from the corn fields, between algae-clogged small bodies of water, beneath a luminous and swift-darkening sky. Lovely ride in the cooling air.

She likes the water, this girl!

We spent Saturday afternoon in Gloucester at a tiny beach -- hurricane's clouds far away to the north. Back on the east coast!