Miles came up in conversation
today, and it was perfect weath-
er for him. One thought back to
his extraction of improvisation
- and of composition - from an
experience of listening.
On a night like this, I ven-
tured into the Village to lis-
ten to Miles, alone. Aged 4, in
contemporary terms, I was 20 at
the time. Until then it was the
most intimate experience of my
existence. Man walks into a bar,
hears a soul, declining to be
confined to itself.
It's a summer night in Virginia.
.. What he is listening to is
The muteness of the dog at each farm
in the valley. Their silence means no
lover is abroad nor any vagrant looking
for where to sleep. But there is a young
man, very still, under the heavy grapes
in another part of Heaven ..
Kind of Blue
Blue in Green
to the Night