A dozen years ago, a dear friend brought her five-year-old daughter, Ella, for the weekend. She loved the swing set in the backyard. As the sun set in the background, I took a visual snapshot of the simple grace of her hair blowing back, the joy on her face, the elegance of it all.
As these things go…I stored that snapshot in what I call “my mental attic” and years later I was sitting with a guitar in my lap one summer day, and “voila” the musical picture rushed out as easy as Ella on that swing…