While we were splashing in the river, tossing small rocks and a few big ones, listening to the operatic leaps of dogs jumping in for their sticks, playing a score for rocks, people, and water on a perfect Solstice evening, a teenager in a bikini got in the river with her friends. A hooded merganser with her great rust-colored tuft swam across the river with a long line of young paddling behind. I slapped my bare feet on mud. I found a beat on a hollow log I was sitting on. There was freedom and sweetness playing with the others, and sudden depths in listening to their splashes, beats, plunks and sprinkles. The leaves whispered and called, whispered and called, rustled, rustled, rubbed, surged, sang, moved.


This was inspired from event that I participated in today.  This is from the open, public invitation?  Join us in a performance of Dean Rosenthal's piece Stones/Water/Time/Breath at the Mill River led by Sabine Merz. Bring stones of all sizes or any size you like and you’re ready to make some music.