Songs and Summer Solstice

This long day is hot. As if celebrating, at last, a summer that has been slow in coming.

Everywhere in France tonight from 9 pm until the wee hours, in city, town and village there are bands, soloists, and odd groups of musicians playing their little French hearts out. The summer solstice arrives with the fete de la musique.

I dither about where to go, into Agen for the city streets of rock, blues and pop bands; up to St. Hilaire for a classical concert in an ancient church, medieval and renaissance music in Henri the fourth's chateau at Nerac or a rock and blues train ride to Mezin on le petit train touristique.

The sun beams down the long mirror of canal at 7:30 this evening; it's 93 degrees in the shade.
I stop my solstice chores to listen to the sounds of Camont.
A thrush is nesting over the terrace table.
A big black bumble bee hums in and out of the pink umbrella.
A tourterelle coos incessantly.

But it isn't until I hear this that I know I will stay close to home tonight.
Open a bottle of cool clear dry rose, hear the village fete from across the Garonne, and remember the first time I heard a nightingale sing at Camont at midnight in 1992.
There are dozens of the songsters in the canalside trees--my private fete de la musique.
Wish you were here.

Click here to hear.

Thanks