Trailhead, Trailend

I arrived back from Montana and found myself feeling in a great, renewed place.

I find myself missing the trailhead (there was a hiking trail essentially in our backyard). Several times, even through rain or even the threat of light snow, I went out and hiked. 

The morning of the final performance, I did a long hike (with some interval sprints). 

There was a sign which got me thinking.

At the end of every performance, we go through a process of "goodbye." For some things which are not ensconsed in the repertoire, this could mean that we don't see the piece again for a very long time, if ever. Other works come back with regularity. 

Whichever the case, as we approach the end of a project, we usually have to turn around and go in the other direction. Geographically. Musically. (Leontyne Price frequently asked her manager to book Mozart or Bach in between performances of Verdi). 

I'm lucky to have a little bit of a break before my summer projects begin.

I think the idea of the trail ending is that we don't forget anything that we've learned from a particular project. We don't forget a new piece (obviously) but also we don't forget who we are now as a result. I know that I will never travel anywhere that's not in the South without a heavier coat, even in spring or early summer. I remember that my body felt the reverse of a hike - regardless if "up" or "down" was first. 

But it's also nice to be home.