Wondrous Our Senses Are When

¶ … wondrous our senses are when we focus on them....It had to be one of the most beautiful days of the year at Golden Gate Park. The lifting fog unveiled a bright blue sky, leaving just a slight chill in the air and a hint of dew glistening on the grass. A drop of rain remaining from the night's shower dropped on my cheek and rolled slowly down to my chin.

The rich odors of flowers floated with the breeze, making a strange potpourri with the scents of popcorn, hotdogs and Belgian waffles. As I walked toward the band shell, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. Although the band always struggled for survival from one year to the next, people of all ages thoroughly enjoyed the weekly musical performance. The young parents proudly watched their children, while chatting with friends about the latest news of their families.

The boys and girls, glad to be out doors in the wide open spaces, ran back and forth, twirled, jumped and did cartwheels. Many of the seniors and elderly were already humming some of their favorite songs. They had been attending these concerts for years, but never tired of the melodies of youth. The band took the stage and the oboe struck its woeful "A," with the other instruments following suit. Chairs and music stands screeched across the floor as the musicians found the right positioning.

The women's black skirts draped near their feet, and the men's black shoes shined from the recently applied polish. A hush and then the sound of loud clapping waved across the audience, as the 85-year-old Maestro, Robert Mclure Hanson,.