I Was Wondering

April in Paris

April is just really something. I have always thought so. It’s always such an in between month. The world isn’t quite ready to be done with winter but it’s super impatient for summer. Well, at least, that’s how it is around here. We don’t usually get that much of a Spring. But, I’m not going to spend this monthly post talking to you about weather in different parts of the world. Let’s face it, that isn’t necessarily good fodder for a great blog post.

Today I want to talk about music. (The title of the post is actually the title of a Frank Sinatra song, but I figured that it fit really well.)Isn’t it an incredible thing? And not even any specific type of music, just music in general. I find it so fascinating what music can do to the human brain. We can have feelings and memories tied into music, it can express powerful emotions. As a writer, I’ve always been a little bit jealous of music that way. Because I know that no matter what I do I’ll never be able to describe some things accurately with words. But somehow, music can.

14cf4319551444cddf0e89c0cc6cbf76I’ve got to admit that the quote on the left pretty much describes me perfectly. Although I wouldn’t describe myself as a musical person, music plays such a huge role in my life. I absolutely love music, and would be completely lost without it.

There are even some songs that I can only listen to at certain times of the year. My family and I call those “Spud Harvest songs”, the songs that come on the radio like crazy for the entire month we are harvesting and then for the rest of our existence we can only listen to them around that time because it just feels weird otherwise. It’s the whole idea of memories being attached to music.

But I guess that if I were to try and describe it then that would be a little contradictory.

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