There was no hope for me to be in a marching band. I chose the vocal route in high school and dismissed the lugging-of-an-instrument-during-halftime-of-a-game approach. I couldn’t do both, though I adore marching bands. They are my favorite addition to any parade or sporting event.
Now, if I had been adept at wielding a baton, perhaps I could have led the band? Graceful tossing and twirling was never in my wheel well either. (I can see my sixth grade teacher amused and internally rolling her eyes to the “Downtown” baton routine to which my three partners and I subjected her and the class.)
Today I stride forward to the music of another beautiful day carried on the breath of autumn’s being.
