This one time at band camp

This week on my way home I have driven past the beginning of the season marching band practices of a local high school. God, it makes me nostalgic. I turn down the radio and roll down the windows, even if they are just standing and not playing, but hopefully once they get the drills down they will play more music. The kids look so little. I always think of myself as still being their age, and forget how old I am, how much more I have experienced since then.

It's that time of year, a new beginning. Fall is coming. When I drove past the marching band, I smelled it, or somehow sensed it. I can't believe I'm not going back to school for the first time. I will just keep on going to work, every day, doing my mad scientist thing. But I do feel cleansed, refreshed, relieved, ready to move into a new season of life.

Low brass sectionals were the best. Those were good days.