A cut-and-paste of Hazel's side of the conversation the other day as she worked away at her painting table, listening all the while (unbeknownst to me) to the music I had going in the kitchen while I worked on dinner; the latest Gillian Welch album was playing and she called out these thoughts (my own answers, inconsequential, omitted here):
"Is that sad music? ... Is someone alone? ... There might be someone who needs help... Maybe the girl has nobody to fix her up... That may be it... There are some people who need help and they don't have a help person."
I think she heard, could feel, the sounds of Welch's music.
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