TODAY AT THE CABIN IN THE WOODS, Kathy had her ‘Play-Day’ piano recital for her kids. It likely will be the last group piano event she has for a while. She had her Log Cabin Piano Studio all gussied up for the day, decorated in lively green colors and shamrocks, with cupcakes and cookies and fruit punch. The children played marvelously, with much enthusiasm and musicality, just the way they are taught. I was ‘chauffeur,’ bringing them from the end of the long, icy lane to the front door, and later back again. It was a lovely day, and Kathy was proud of her students.

But it will likely be the last event for a while. We don’t know how long. All over the country, people are coming to grips with stark changes to their daily lives, worrying about their families and loved ones, their income, their jobs, the national economy. It is frightening. We are worried, too. There is much to worry about, from loss of income to personal health. I think of all of you these days, my good Facebook friends and longtime personal friends. I know this–that even in the midst of ‘social distancing’ and the personal concerns each of us may have, we are still all in this TOGETHER. We are not alone, we live for each other. We take precautions and make wise decisions for each other. We do our best to be good citizens and community members for each other. And we must do our best to stay connected to each other. The very worst thing in the midst of fear and anxiety is to feel alone.

Many of you readers have been there for me, for Kathy and me, in the last year or two through a number of difficult health challenges. It helped. It helped a lot. Thank you. In the weeks (months?) ahead I will do my best to stay connected with all of you here. On this humble, little blog. You will hear the news from the Church Of The Pines. From Sparky the Cardinal and Brother ‘Possum, and maybe even Dr. Woodrow F. Stump, our woodland psychologist. You will see the grace and beauty of a ‘Bonsai of the Day.’ There will be some more bad Ole and Sven jokes. Through “Wood’s Lore” I will write of the wisdom and perspective and sustenance of Nature. Books and CDs will remain available through the website. And occasionally I’ll just report on the news of the day–when the ice goes out on the Father of Waters when the hermit thrush returns and how his song echoes in the woods. When the trout lilies and trillium bloom. As always I will look forward to your comments and the shared conversation. We will stay connected. And we, as a little online community, as friends and fellow citizens, as a nation, will get through this and come out on the other side. No doubt.

So I wish you well, each one of you, my friends. I look forward to our conversations. And in closing today, in honor of the little piano students of the Log Cabin Studio, and in honor of Kathy, and of my mother, Joyce, whose legacy Kathy carries on, we will close with a little more wit and wisdom from the studio of Joyce Wood, who lived 92 years and taught piano lessons for 72 of them. She lived through a lot– from childhood tuberculosis to the Great Depression to WWII, to all the challenges of life in the ensuing decades. She lived through it all, and our country has lived through it all, too. We’ll live through this.
A couple of memories from Joyce’s notebook:

“I had spent quite a bit of time teaching a little boy how to bow at his first recital. On the big day, he walked carefully up to the piano, paused, then bowed magnificently. To the piano! Not to the audience!!”

“I told a little girl, and her mother, at one of her first lessons, that she had ‘a good ear.’ The little girl glanced at her mother, then looked rather distressed. “But,” she said, “it has a little wax in it right now.”