My 2nd Only Baptism

It snowed in Cleveland last night, the first snow of the winter, in fact. And it was cold, cold, cold. But for some strange reason, my emotions and music this morning brought me back to this trailer for next year’s Eaux Claires festival.

And, looking back at my eleven-hour road trip last summer, I have to call it what it was. It persists and it is simple. And it will lend me through these winter months. This, my friends, was nothing short of a spiritual pilgrimage. No Mecca or Jerusalem, just Wisconsin.

I remember Justin Vernon starting his set with Bon Iver and The Staves with Heavenly Father.

I remember the dorm we stayed in, how it reminded me of when I was younger, how I am always young. Napping in grass hills in tree shade waiting for a next set. Drinking Wisconsin beers next to and meeting other people. The woods. The excitement that first night when The National quietly rolls into a rendition of About Today, picks up tempo with Bloodbuzz, Ohio.

Ohio, where were you that night?

There wasn’t a single “stage” to see, be seen or be at here. We were all a part of this. Many musicians traded instruments and stages repeatedly, even paraded around the place, all like a church choir service on Christmas Eve. Bells, acapella, that organ. My heart. My winter….Good winter. The name Bon Iver derives from the French phrase bon hiver, “good winter.”

Bon Hiver, Bon Iver. I am renewed. I am inspired.