Bytes from the Bean by Joe Manning 5-01-02

12:00AM / Monday, April 29, 2002

SLOWING DOWN TO A JOG

Bye Bye Sky

The fragile melody drops in

like the sun burning a hole in a cloud

And then it is gone

only to appear once again

luring me into the elegance

of its soft, drip-drop notes

Before slipping off

into a shadowy corner of my memory

I hear it now

as I sit in the glow of a fading sunset

The camera returned to its case

the last purple cloud lost somewhere

in the bye bye sky

-a poem by Joe Manning, inspired by “Bye Bye Sky,” a tune by Lukas Previn



Elm tree off Bucklin Rd. in Adams



It was about two years ago. I was headed home to Florence. As I turned left off East Road in Adams, I noticed that elm tree, the one which stands alone on the hill above Bucklin Road. I always notice it, but this time, I could see a strange low cloud moving toward the top of the tree in the strong afternoon wind. Right behind the tree, a dim sun looked on, as if waiting eagerly to catch the cloud in its rays. I stopped, scrambled out of the car, and got my camera ready. Photographers live for moments like these. When it reached a spot directly behind the top of the tree, the cloud burst into a celestial glow, and I clicked.

I thought about that event the other day, while I was quietly listening to a new CD called Live at the Jazz Standard, by jazz pianist (and world-renowned conductor) Andre Previn. As I started to doze off, I heard a melody so strangely haunting, that I thought I was dreaming. I had played the CD several times in my car, but I did not remember this tune. When I awakened a few minutes later, I searched the CD until I found it on the playlist. It’s called “Bye Bye Sky,” and it was composed by Previn’s 17-year-old son Lukas. I played it again, repeated it, then played it yet another time. It’s only three minutes long. No matter how many times I listened, its beauty nearly made me cry, but I had trouble remembering even one short melodic phrase.

Life is like that. There are many times when we are confronted suddenly with a special moment that lasts for only a short time, and yet we are unable to fully recreate it in our mind. A first kiss, vows said at the altar, a baby’s first step; these are events that come and go too quickly for us to savor them. Unfortunately, there are no instant replays to help us.



View of Hoosac Valley from Gulf Farm in Cheshire



Those moments happen to me so often when I visit North Adams. That’s why I always have my camera sitting on the front seat beside me. Driving over the road by the Gulf Farm in Cheshire in the early morning, I notice an endless variety of scenes depending on the weather, the angle of the sun, and the season. But it’s the sky that I especially watch for. The ordinary things that receive only casual glances every day can look extraordinary when framed by an unusual sky, if one is observant enough and fast enough to catch it before it’s gone.



St. John's Episcopal Church





St. Anthony Church



That is one reason why I love walking in North Adams. And when I do, I am always looking up. Around just about every turn, I find myself saying “Hey, look at that!” And if I am lucky enough to get it on film, it winds up in my photo albums. Here are a few special places to look.

In the late afternoon, stand at the west corner of Ashland and Main Streets and catch the sunlight on the east side of the curving downtown block of Eagle Street.

In mid-morning, walk up to the loading dock area behind the post office, stand by the fence facing Main Street, and look at the incredible facades that are lined up from Eagle Street down to Holden Street. The roof of the one-story buildings on the south side obscures the street-level storefronts on the north side, forcing the eyes to focus solely on the architecture.

On a gloomy day, look up Holden Street from Main Street and enjoy the warm light of the Sun Cleaners sign staring back at you.

Early on a bright morning, face west from the corner of Ashland Street and American Legion Drive, and you will see the spectacular and uniquely blue Cancro Block on Furnace Street, bathed in sunlight.



View of Blackinton Block from Marshall St.



View of First Baptist Church from Eagle St.



In these times of rush, rush, rush, we should not forget to appreciate the beauty of our hometown. If you haven’t been looking up lately, it’s time you thought about slowing down to a jog.

Snowcap

There’s a change on the mountains this morning

the trees are bare

On the hill

I see houses

that seem to have sprung up overnight

The wind runs up River Street

and the river runs with it

It runs cold

I walk with my head down

and my hands in my pockets

When I cross the bridge

I don’t even stop

to look back at the city

When I reach Main Street

the sun glows on the red brick

and I spot the snowcap on Florida Mountain

I feel a sudden rush

and I want to tell somebody

but there’s no one around

-a poem by Joe Manning from Steeples

Coming soon! A large gallery of my photographs will be posted on

iBerkshires.com this spring. Please watch for updates.

Visit Joe's website at: www.sevensteeples.com.

Email Joe at: manningfamily@rcn.com.