The rustle of the yellow leaves along the pavement, their little dance along the street, they have served their purpose to feed the tree, now they scurry along the path singing their forlorn songs of sadness. The brooks and streams with be silent soon, their innate chatter quieted by the north wind and the tilt of the Earth. How quickly time passes. I am not sure if time has become quicker as I have grown older or if time has hastened for all beings on the planet; does a dog feel the passing of time as I do? In the forest I have been given ticker tape parades, the wind showers me with the opulence of a summer passed by – a summer that was never mine, never yours.
Why am I writing today of all days? There are shows on the horizon. Valuable fall shows that will only happen in the way that they are about to happen this one time. I have tried to tell you numerous times to come to the shows, if you listen that is up to you, it makes no difference to me, I will play my best and you will miss out by not being there.
Have you felt magic? Have you ever been a part of something that is bigger than yourself? I feel this in the change of the season, I feel this in Cowpuncher. There is a core here, headed my Olah and spurred on by the rest of the members. There is magic in this band, emotions that stir like those sad songs of the leaves. Scraping. Longing. There is a sexual longing, there is a romantic notion like a sandstone hotel with a shotgun wedding. Have you been to a Cowpuncher show? Do you know the members of Cowpuncher? I hope that you do. I know them, I love them.
When the winter comes in dark, warm, and secret places there will be a meeting; and when that meeting is done you will feel as I do now, the pulsing and vibrate warmth of ‘idea’ and ‘dream’. Contemplate love for a moment and what that means to you. Imagine every friend that you ever had. Now, that is Cowpuncher, except we are a family; we give each other shit, we tear each other apart to heal and help – like pulling out a sliver hurts and then feels so good.
Winter is almost here. Spring will come with a gift.
I love you,