Tag Archives: concussion

Soggy Days are Here Again

Posted on by

Against all odds a calendula flower I sprouted from seed has managed to bloom in November. This event coincided with some new piano music coming to me, I’m happy to say. Hey, I really think I’m getting better now! I can play the piano q u i e t l y now – perfect fifths… low down… are so soulfully! (sol-fa-ly?) satisfying!! There might not be a sun in the sky these days, but I do have a small sun shining on my balcony.

Exhibit A: IMG_1963.JPG

And the juncos are really digging the peanut butter suet I put out for them. And here’s a little treat for you, dear friends, if you have time. Last November we started working on a new album. Here is a glimpse of the work that we yearn to complete after my recovery:

It’s a Beautiful Day

Posted on by

Did you know that we have one hundred billion neurons in our brains? As many as the stars above us. What does this have to do with sumac? I went to Bill’s gig at Kay Meek last weekend – it was Steve Dawson’s tribute to David Bowie – there were about twelve people on stage and the sound just got more and more massive! I found myself slinking down in my seat and putting my head down and my fingers in my ears in crash position and then I just excused myself and slunk out to the lobby… and who did I see but Dave Watson, the amazing emerg. doc. whose daughter I taught years ago! When Dave heard my concussion story he whipped out his phone and said, “look, I want you to go see this guy.” It turns out that both Dave and Brian Hunt are mountain medical emergency doctors. I saw Brian today and he was very encouraging. He advised me to meditate four times a day, avoid all screens, and reduce obvious stressors like driving in Vancouver! I have a lot to be thankful this Thanksgiving and I am wishing you all a tasty, yummy, colourful Thanksgiving. Best wishes to all!

Flames of Sumac

The fall brushed air swirls around my face and ruffles my hair

I see runes written in the moss that grows

Along the old stonewall by the lagoon.

There are dandelions still standing

Stretching themselves as long as they can

Toward the falling green and gold light.

Flames of sumac

Be inside it

We welcome the change

And the wind lifts these pages

Holly Burke, September 2015

image002.png