JoBiv: OOh! Smell that?
Meera: Mmmhmm!
JoBiv: (walking briskly toward nearest blossoming tree) Think it's this one?
Meera: *sniff* Nope.
JoBiv: *sniff* Hmm. Maybe that one... (walking to next tree)
Meera: *sniff sniff* (looking confused) Hmm.
JoBiv: *sniff* Nope. Oh well.
Meera: (turns toward front steps of Devotion school) Oh well.
JoBiv: Wait! (skipping down the path to another small blossoming tree)
Meera: Hmm? (following)
JoBiv: *sniff* Ahhhhhhhhh...
Meera: *sniff* Ahhhhhhhhh...
JoBiv: *sniff* Ahhhhhh...
Meera: *sniff sniff* Ahhhhhhh...
JoBiv: *sneeeeef* Ahhh that's good...
Meera: *Sneeef sniff sniff* Mmmmmm.
JoBiv: I wanna keep it forever. *sniffity sniff*
Meera: Let's bring some in to B! *sneeeeef*
JoBiv: Good idea! *sniff*
Meera: (snapping sprig from the branch) *sniff* He's gonna love this!
And B, the kindly gent in the tenor section who made us sit with him to admire the copper-colored light on the trees a few weeks ago, did indeed love his little sprig. And since he's the coolest, he somehow smushed his sprig into the zipper of his fleece vest, the one that's always covered in his dog's hair. He was fairly beaming through half the night...
Until Bach killed our collective will to live, that is. Well, to be more specific, and fair to the woman who sat in and actually taught us more of the Bach than we've ever learned with our director, the smiles stopped when she sat down and our director took over. There was a moment, while this woman led us through or leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeben, when I was struck by the prettiness of it. "Oh wow," thought I, "this piece is melodic!" And I thought of what it would be like to hear our choir finally getting it right if I could properly hear it, if I was sitting, perhaps, on that bench just outside and letting the scent of that one blooming tree wash over me. I would inhale deeply, exhale slowly, and say, "Ahhh, they've finally got it."
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