Sunset, Thursday, 9 April 2009

Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va. Oil on paper, 16 x 20.

I watched the beginning of this sunset while cutting firewood down in a place I call The Cove, a park-like stretch of big oaks and grass that slopes down and narrows into woods at the source of a stream. (We rent a marginally functional farmhouse that happens to be the only residence on 1000+ acres, but more about that some other time.) I’d been told that our developer-landlord’s most valuable handyman had been permitted to give his daughter a party somewhere on the property this evening, and I’d assumed this meant a birthday party. But when I noticed that the two balloons they tied to the posts by the cattle guard were dark blue and white – and then saw kids being driven in and they were wearing tall, light blue paper crowns – well, to quote Eric Burdon, this really blew my mind. Maybe it was a Passover party!

To understand my surprise, you need to know that the immediate vicinity is anything but a multicultural melting pot. (And of course, now I decided, since a Passover party was the coolest explanation, it must be a Passover party.) Celebrations that take place around here usually have all the decorum of a reunion picnic for dishonorably discharged Confederate enlisted men and their camp followers. (And I put it this way even though I admit to growing up with the Army of Northern Virginia as my heroes and to being always a little fascinated by the idea that I was supposed to be related to General Earl Van Dorn.) By the end of any one of these parties, in place of the earlier whoops of drunken delight, there’s a fine chance threats of murder will be clearly distinguished at distances approaching half a mile.

This party was so different, it really – well, I already said that once. Instead of rumbling pickup trucks jacked up on monster wheels, we had people driving by slowly, just as you would expect on a dirt road, in regular cars, every once in a while a child leaning forward to try to see where the party was going to be.

And I never knew exactly where it was – one of the fields beyond The Cove, or at a gazebo overlooking the ponds – but every once in a while I could hear it. It was one of those evenings – not yet warm, just mild, calm, green, falling light gold in the trees – that makes you feel Spring has really arrived. The gentle music of the kids’ laughter was the soundtrack for the sunset.