Did you know George Gershwin was a bit of a jackass? Especially to his less-accomplished brother.
After returning to the States from Australia, I spent a few days in Austin with my friend Chris. Chris and I had explored Bangkok together, a fascinating and exotic city, one of the most amazing cities I have ever seen. Then - here we were at home in Texas, as at home as one could be.
We went to his family's country home in the Hill Country outside Austin to spend a quiet summer weekend. It’s a beautiful old farmhouse with deep porches, plantation-shuttered windows and sweeping views of the peach orchards below.
It was just us, his family still in Bangkok. Everything was covered in sheets, quiet and somehow timeless. We opened up the windows and the sheets danced a little in the breeze.
We swung slowly on a porch swing, watching the approaching Texas thunderstorm darkening the horizon. Lightning in the distance, the thunder rolling; doing the count between seeing the lightning and hearing the thunder to know how far away the storm was.
Not a cicada, no tree frog, no bird calls, when a storm like that is coming.
It was just us, his family still in Bangkok. Everything was covered in sheets, quiet and somehow timeless. We opened up the windows and the sheets danced a little in the breeze.
We swung slowly on a porch swing, watching the approaching Texas thunderstorm darkening the horizon. Lightning in the distance, the thunder rolling; doing the count between seeing the lightning and hearing the thunder to know how far away the storm was.
Not a cicada, no tree frog, no bird calls, when a storm like that is coming.
Gershwin poured out the windows.
Smelling the aroma of the storm, the heat, the ripe peaches.
It was a beautiful moment in time.
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