The road does funny things to you. And the little girl in me longs to play. That is one strange thing about being on the road, that sometimes I must find other ways for her to play, for it is not every day that we have a show. In fact, we haven't had a show in four days, but we have done a great deal else. We've driven. Two days full of driving, from our home in Staunton, VA to our present locale of Bar Harbor, ME.

What words can I conjure to best encapsulate our month of touring thus far, that one may peer into the crystal ball and see the valleys and the hills? Is it the face of the little boy back at Blue Ridge Community College, whose eyes moved with our story in its entirety and beamed at our play's end? Is it the faces of all of those who celebrated with us as we played music whilst reconfiguring our stage beneath the tent at Lime Kiln, so as to protect us all from the pouring rain? Or is it the serene beauty of Bar Harbor with her water and her national park, her fog, her sun, her rain? Each experience, fresh and unique, moves me, and in some way, etches itself into my heart. And with each etching there is a new spark in the little girl who plays.

We are driving and the sun is behind us, moving away from us, and the trees skate by, they dance on and on and on and there she is the little girl who longs to play and it's getting darker now and part of me slips away because it wants to dance with all those trees in the leftover light before it is too late.

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