Water Lilies for Thanksgiving, and Other Wonders (Wolf, Beethoven, Pancho Vladigerov, Löwe, Richard Smallwood)

It had been a while before this week since I had time to get out around the Music Concourse, but I walked that way this week and found out that the fanbase of K.M. Altesrouge had surely been sung clear out of their minds ... not that I didn't understand, having been on trip after trip to the Knockout Zone, but when people don't have enough of the right information and have to start filling in the gap from their experience and understanding and they have been sung clear out of their minds...

"Good people, it is official: Herr Altesrouge definitely has a woman and we will soon be hearing about a marriage!"

See, just because you don't pay attention for months to a side plot in the whole life you have given a fictional character to live on his own doesn't mean stuff doesn't go on while you are not paying attention...

"I mean, I was over by Kezar and I could hear his voice ringing about how overjoyed he was to be accepted by her -- I mean, she must really be somebody or at least he thinks she is!"

OK ... what that fan heard had happened at Alvord Lake, but owing to the acoustics of Kezar Boulevard and the tunnel under it leading to the lake and the more-than-mortal size of the Ghost of Musical Greatness Past's voice, folks were hearing things on the wrong side of the road and reaching equally wrong conclusions ... he had been expressing his gratitude that out of all the great musicians of the past I could have chosen to deeply listen to and love, I had chosen him. He had been known by some as both the most famous and least pretentious man ... humility makes for much, much higher experiences of gratitude and joy, and personality-wise, it had never taken much to really set him off in that direction!

"You must have just missed seeing the proposal!" another fan said.

"Yeah, and he must have picked her up and carried her off with those long legs or they must have gotten to a vehicle, because I definitely got to a viewing point, but, nothing! I would have loved to have been the first to congratulate him!"

"We actually have listened to this develop," another fan said. "Last autumn at about this time, he started singing at a whole different level of fire, and then things settled in for a while, and then ... remember this summer when he began singing that thing by Hugo Wolf about not knowing what he was feeling at first, and it all had to do with how love had found him, and how it was in her hands if he could continue the new life he had glimpsed by looking into her eyes?"

"I looked that up -- he was rehearsing that proposal in front of us!"

"And apparently, she said yes -- just in time for the holidays!"

And just like that, I was engaged to be married for the holidays and knew nothing about it ... at least, in their imagination.

People do this all day long, and we choose to show up and show them otherwise or leave them right where they are, in their imagination.

In the real world, things got just a little worse ... folks imagined I was not going to show up on some foolishness they thought they were going to do. That was just their imagination, of course! There are certain things that will not be done on my hour of watch. My country played with not putting food in the mouth of sixteen million children last week. That will not be tolerated anywhere around me for any reason, whatsoever. I had to jump into Beethoven mode on folks ...

To not be doing the foolery ... to not be powerless against it ... this was another way for me to consider all the reasons I have to be grateful.

And then also, the light broke upon me on the new creative moves I sensed were coming ... the path became clear and everything I did not have in my hands to move forward I found in the path as I walked it ... it actually frightened me how close I had been to it all along, but one cannot see around the bend and always know what you are parallel to, through the trees...

I ended up this week on a walk I did not expect due to public transportation issues ... but I realized where I was and that I was roughly parallel to Golden Gate Park's Lily Pond, where I have not been since much earlier in the year ... where there were baby lily pads, but no water lilies owing to the time of year. One would not expect lilies at this late date either, but again, one never knows ... like discovering this piece by little-known but happily discovered Bulgarian composer Pancho Vladigerov ...

What caught my ear about this at first was its soothing start with the bass clef in both hands, heralding its later surprises in deep tranquility like the calm silvery day I found myself walking on... and also reminding me of a deep, smooth bass voice I so love ... so of course the portal of imagination opened...

"Frau Mathews, I am so honored that you thought of me!"

The Ghost of Musical Greatness Past walked into the crossing path, and offered me his arm with a smile.

"I was last here serving as your octogenarian pacing service, and I am glad to again do the honor. You have been mildly ill in this two weeks, so it is fitting."

I chuckled.

"Vielen Dank," I said. "I was about to just pile on another mile of walking from here, but ... ."

"Another mile?" he said, and for a moment sank his head into his very large hand. "Well, our themes are peace and thanksgiving for the week, so I shall be thankful I got here on the fictional side of this week to pace you in time -- and thankful you did not actually exhaust yourself on the non-fiction side of the fourth wall!"

"I sat down for a good while at Alvord Lake," I said, "but on this side of the fourth wall, I will sit with you here and be gratefully content, and we can take that portion of the walk another day!"

"Very well, Frau Mathews," he said. "We shall take our time ... it is a beautiful day in silver tones, not unlike that gorgeous piece by Vladigerov."

So on we walked through the Tree Fern Dell ... many spring flowers were enjoying their autumn rebloom still...

... and over this scene, a blue heron sat silently watching, a silhouette against the dark evergreen and silver sky ... at peace there, as we were.

I noted then that my walking companion was glowing up in the tranquil environment ... he was holding an appearance of his robust early-to-mid-50s that day, in a silver-gray sweatsuit trimmed with deep green ... looking like a million bucks with compound interest in overdrive, even before his smile fully emerged.

"A pfennig for your thoughts," I said gently, and he looked down at me with the smile in full, dazzling array.

"I was quietly addressing myself on high, Frau Mathews, in gratitude to see that you have grown and matured so much, and that I was permitted a part in this: your default is now peace. In November 2021, when you trusted me to introduce you to Brahms in his Four Serious Songs, you were finding your way out of the noise into this manner of life to which you are called. The path was very hard; you suffered much and gave up much ... but you are here."

"I am grateful that of all voices that could have been chosen for Brahms, and many other things, it was yours, the most beautiful male voice God ever created," I said.

He blushed, wildly, sending his glowing up to an entirely different level. Never mind the million bucks. He just went on and punched out a billion and a trillion, smiling like that!

"Ich danke dir," he said after a moment of gathering himself. "Of all the voices about which you might well have said that, when you have listened to so many great basses of the past and present ... all I can do is say thank you!"

His voice was still quiet as he was respecting the deep tranquility of the scene, but it was beginning to shimmer ... he was approaching being overjoyed, but chose to continue to pace himself.

"For now four years, you have listened to me with a desire to learn, to grow, to climb, to find on the side of first natural principles how to connect what you know from the training of your youth how to walk as you are called in this world ... we have delved into matters deep and wide, and you have trusted me to get you there and back without overwhelming you with anguish ... for what else could someone gifted as an interpreter as I am ever dream, to be so listened to, and loved ... but even so out of due time ... permanently retired ... yet re-materialized in Q-Inspired-by-Music to be loved in person ... oh, Frau Mathews, all I can do is say thank you!"

"I thank you that you left such a legacy of love that I could indeed trust you," I said, "my beloved Echo Watchman."

He had chosen, as his first and last role, the humble role of the Night Watchman in Wagner's Die Meistersinger von Nürenberg, and never, not even in the long height of his fame in which he could ask for any bass role he wanted, did he sing the key bass role of Hans Sachs in that same opera. About this no explanation is known except what can be known: he preferred to be the Night Watchman, looking out for the people of his community (though coming hilariously late in the opera).

I am that same kind of person for my family and community ... I could get out in front more ... but I prefer to stay on watch, devotedly caring, day after day after day ... so when I learned about him choosing the Night Watchman over Hans Sachs, I loved him even more for that.

"You are an unusual person, Frau Mathews," he said, "in a proud, status-seeking world, choosing to walk away from that to be faithful on an humbler path. I am glad we have come to the Lily Pond today, in its out-of-the-way and overlooked status at this time of year ... there is something you are supposed to see here ... but first ... ."

My head had already found his shoulder and thus his heart, and he wrapped his arms and his voice tenderly around me. He was still quiet, but the shimmer now almost had me seeing stars ...

"I can only say thank you, Frau Mathews ... how is it that you have taken all your gratitude for my singing and brought me here to size me up and say, 'His heart is immense, but I can still wrap it up in my heart's embrace?' How are you still like this at the late age of 44, with all the disappointment and heartbreak you have had? I am so grateful to be chosen to be present in the ongoing wonder!"

That reminded me of his fanbase, and what they had to say, but I could not get to that at the moment, because he swept me off my feet, and then lifted me up so I could see the wonder that he, being so much taller, had already seen.

The lilies of the Lily Pond had finally matured and bloomed -- in November!

He carried me to where they were, and let me be in absolute astonishment for some time before speaking.

"For you see, meine Liebe Dame, those things called apart and set to the side in the eyes of the world are often set so in order to bloom in their proper time. So also you, mein geliebtes, goldenes Blumenkind. Not even in this climate would we imagine water lilies in the freshness of a first blooming in November ... but so it is, and only for the eyes of those willing to walk a path apart."

"You helped to teach me that through Löwe," I said. "Again, the sea is bigger than the Lily Pond, but from 'Meeresleucthen' I learned there are things only those willing to go into the holiest, quietest places of life can ever view. As I walk out here, willing to be away from the bulk of mankind in my city, I think of that often ... to have been called apart, to have been sung to so beautifully of the treasures of the humbler, quieter path as I began to climb to find them, and now to center my life in them ... I am so grateful, to you, and the One Who sent your voice into my life to help me!"

Technically, he had no lungs and did not breathe at this state of his existence, but my mind just filled that shuddering breath in as his grip intensified -- his joy passed the point of his being able to restrain it and he was not going to go there by himself -- oh no, not him! He went on and sang "Meeresleuchten" in that state of affairs and sent me to the Knockout Zone ... deep midnight descended, black and warm and spangled with the Milky Way for light, and I rested floating on a lily pad to enjoy it!

I opened my eyes at last with him seated on a bench, holding me, his uplifted emotions playing back and forth over his face with tender concern.

"Frau Mathews, I forgot that you really cannot hear me live in that song by Löwe without actually falling out," he said.

"The Knockout Zone is a real thing," I said, "just like Beethoven's Opus 109 and 111 have parts in their variations that are close to permanently taking me up out of here for sheer beauty."

He adjusted his grip upon me to cradle me even more carefully.

"I remember ... one day in the halcyon of winter of 2024, you sat upon Buena Vista Hill and first listened to Morris Robinson, a living bass who you put close to me for beauty, as he was in a song of praise in which your heart was greatly uplifted...

"... and then put on Beethoven's Opus 111 variations and nearly went on to where your heart was yearning ... your breathing slowed down almost to a halt at the height of that ... and meanwhile, a whole storm front was slowly easing over the hills to your west. I was allowed to moonlight as your security that day, to get you up and off that hill!, for if you had stayed there too long and gone down too late ... ."

"Yours was the only voice beside that of the One Who made you that could interrupt me and not give me such a shock in descending back to this world in its mix of pain and glory so that I could actually endure the transition. You sang later as well, as we walked through the near meadows of Golden Gate Park, and that provided me a soft landing."

His grip intensified again -- apparently, that was not quite the tranquil, pleasant memory for him that it had been for me.

"I am beyond being afraid for any reason," he said, "but I remember what it was as a mortal man, to so love another person, and to have my soul shaken at the responsibility of protection that thus implied. There are many skillful human hands that between Opus 109 and Opus 111 that can bring you to such a moment, and I am glad that you have learned since not to listen outdoors to either one. However, there is only one voice in all Creation who can do that, thus far. There are still many more fabulous singers you have yet to hear -- but, for now, that singular voice is mine. I understand the level of responsibility that implies for me.

"I am grateful to the One Who added me to your life that I know how you are after four years ... so incredibly strong as a person, but if anyone dares to touch and hold your heart, my beloved, golden Flower Child, it must be done with the utmost of tenderness, such as if my massive hands were charged with taking one of these water lilies and carrying it and sufficient water for its life to an even better clime for it ... and if that lily bloomed before my eyes in going, expressing its sense of safety ... ach, mein Blumenkind, mein geliebtes, goldenes Blumenkind ... so ist es für mich!"

One ethereal tear dropped from his eye, and, upon it landing by a little bush and evaporating up, that tear bathed that bush in love that the bush had its own autumn rebloom ... it was already in bud, and just needed encouragement.

I don't often throw rocket fuel on fires, but sometimes ...

"You represent a Patient Gardener very well; I have suffered no loss by my heart being in your love's embrace, and very well should I have bloomed, having been carried to a whole new and better life in four years."

It was good that it was November around the Lily Pond. Nobody would have believed it who hadn't seen it, and nobody who would have seen it could even begin to understand. It was like Isolde having her Erklarung -- her enlightenment -- on stage before she dies in Wagner's Tristan und Isolde, but without the stage lights and the death part ... to love and be loved in return, and all wrapped in gratitude, as much on earth as it is possible to live as if one were in heaven ... just a wee bit more reflection of that light came through, in his utter joy at that moment.

We spent more or less an hour sitting there at the Lily Pond ... he had lost his English, so he knew he was getting to the point where he could not hold his immortal voice inside a safe approximation for Earth and therefore also for me, and so was silent ... so there we rested in the peace until his glow had calmed down to "simmer shimmer mode" -- I made that comment to him, and that brought him back into English with a laugh.

"I like that!" he said. "That does capture my basic temperament, with a little gloss on it!"

"Oh well, I think you can be rewarded with a little gloss after four years of service," I said, "and I will just tell you now that your fanbase thinks you should be rewarded just a little more after your four years of faithful service."

"Really?" he said. "What are they planning?"

I changed one line in Schubert's "Gute Nacht," and sang it to his astonishment.

"Die Mädchen gar von Liebe, die Menschen gar von Eh'..."

The maiden spoke of love, and the people speak of marriage...

"Was?" he said, having lost his English yet again in his surprise.

"That was my reaction too -- what?" I said. "Apparently you were overheard joyously thanking me for having you as my favorite musician, and one of them thought you had proposed and I said yes."

"Was?" he said.

"Life on Earth for the world-famous is still as preposterous as you have forgotten it is," I said. "King Charles III once had this happen to him -- folks just picked Lady Diana for him, and that was that ... poor you, just stuck with Deeann!"

He broke out laughing, and was heard over that quarter-mile of the park ... but he was not at the Music Concourse where his fans went looking.

Yet he did not go quite in the direction I expected with that information.

"That is preposterous, what you just said, but not for the reason you think it is," he said. "I'm just an old retired has-been singer who sings in the park -- I was born a German villager in the lowest moment of my people's history, blessed to survive and thrive by grace."

"I am the descendant of the survivors of this country's cruelest act," I said, "and the neighbor to a crack house, five doors down, which claimed all but three children in my neighborhood. I survived the gentrification that destroyed what was left, kept by grace to a quiet and peaceful life."

"Which means you would still be a match to any humble-hearted man of great ability and community-mindedness of suitable age and maturity, looking for the companion of the mature years of his life," he said. "

"But I could not be fair to him now," I said. "You have a happier home on high to go to, but he being a mortal man would expect to make such a home with me, and my responsibilities are too great now."

"This is true," he said gently, "and I commend and admire you for so caring for the well-being of someone you have not yet met, in advance. Your honesty is also commendable."

"There is also the reality of the deep peace I have come to in my life, even in the midst of the heavy circumstances and responsibilities I have," I said. "It is written: my life as a single chaste woman, walking as I am called, will be more peaceful than in any marriage, even assuming the best of men. I cherish my peace. It took me decades to climb to it. I have trouble and sorrow enough to deal with in the coming years without putting myself into a position that is inherently less peaceful."

He sighed, considered his words, but then shook his head and smiled.

"I will not gainsay it -- I cannot," he said. "It is also written there, 'abide as you are called,' and for you, called single, to have understood and accepted why it is better for you to do just that is something few people ever realize. You are clear and settled in your mind upon the point, and that is good. We leave it there!"

His smile widened.

"Of course I am not at all capable of jealousy either at this stage of my existence," he said, "but I cannot say that I am unhappy that I shall have you to myself for some time into the future!"

I broke out laughing.

"How you get from the solemn to the most ridiculous so quick!" I said.

"Did you forget that a couple of people made up a whole new voice classification in German for me?" he said. "Lyrischer Seriouser Bass, or lyric basso profondo -- and such a pity, because they still missed it. Basso profondo buffo is more like it!"

Now he was on a roll, and would not stop until he had me rolling laughing!

"And, after all, my fanbase needs something to do besides minding their own business -- they enjoy starring in this romantic comedy of errors so much and we need not deny them that! And then there are so many possibilities in costuming!"

I looked down at my left hand, and there glittered the biggest glittering ring --.

"Too much?" he said. "I mean, you might add even more bass piano authority to your mighty left hand with 20 carats of good stone from the Rhine!"

"If you do not stop it immediately -- even the best of men -- this is what I was telling you!"

It is written that married people have to care for the affairs of the world in ways that single people do not, and it can become a distraction ... like a pianist wearing a 20-carat engagement ring ... and all the reality of how it would unbalance my hand over time ... all the possibilities of losing that ring because of needing to take it off ... and all the anxiety around that possibility in both parties ... and all the possible feelings of rejection and resentment around even giving and receiving, because even 20 carats of real quartz from the Rhineland is today a significant investment, to say nothing of a diamond ... to say nothing of people who don't know the difference being willing to kill you for it in troubled economic times ... .

"I'm letting you know that I understand your point, Frau Mathews," he said gently as he removed that monstrosity from my hand. "Even a 20-carat engagement ring on the hand of one not called to wear it will be a burden -- indeed, abide as you are called!"

And with that, we walked around and up from the Lily Pond, with me grateful for what was in my life, with no desire to add to it anything that I would not find in the way that I was going -- and there would be wonders enough, suited for me.