Overjoyed

With the last of our globetrotting stragglers back from Tasmania, we can legitimately say we've got the band back together. And with the National Championships and ANZAC Day done, it's time to start looking at the remainder of the performances we've got scribbled in our diaries for 2017. Which means the most exciting thing of all. So exciting in fact, a drum roll doesn't seem excessive (thank you percussion). Yes, that's right. New music! 

While we have enjoyed working hard for the championships and did end up loving some of the competition pieces (once we could actually play them) you can have too much of a good thing (I know. I was shocked to discover that cliche was true too). So it's time to wave goodbye to some pieces and hello to some new ones. Of course on any music sorting night, there's always a bit of a mixed bag. There are always some completely new pieces, which might become a new favourite or a new mortal enemy to be vanquished. Who knows? (Though you can generally have a good guess by looking at the density of the notes splashed across the page). There are always a couple of old favourites, that your brain might have forgotten but your fingers certainly haven't. And because there is that universal need for balance, there are those few pieces that you dreaded the first time around and once they disappeared from the rehearsal folder you hoped never to see them again. Yet here they are. Back. In your folder. Waiting to be played. 

As you can imagine with all this new music, we got a little giddy. It's hard not to. New music for musicians is like a child left alone in a candy store and told 'here's a giant basket. Take your pick'. Each new piece has to be examined, its difficulty estimated. New music that we've played before inevitably brings back memories which have to be shared. Safe to say we got a little loud. Which then carried over to our playing. Which lead to Maestro II proclaiming in despair while clutching her head 'play musically. Don't blast it. Or I will have to say the f-word'. Which lead to one bright spark innocently asking 'forte?' High spirits indeed. 

So we are armed to the teeth, ready for the rest of the year (musically at any rate). Something we are full of joy about. So much so we are probably overjoyed. 

In the Morning

So here we are again. 4.45am. In the dark. And the cold. Trying to warm our instruments up, never mind keeping them warm. Yet it's not windy, it's not raining, it's as ideal as it can be, which has to be a first. As we stand there waiting, the cold becomes more apparent, now we are still. We shift slightly, adjusting our weight, wriggling our toes to stop them from going completely numb. Finally the baton lifts and we begin to play. Stiffly, as our fingers protest the movement and we struggle to get a note out, our instruments not just cool but cold. As our final notes ring out, bagpipes cut through the morning air. The parade has arrived. 

We stand and observe as there is a change of personnel and drills are performed. The opening address is made. The list of conflicts mentioned is long. Longer than you expect. The thought of the number of battles is galling. Then it is time for the laying of the wreaths. We play the piece through and then repeat it. And repeat it again. And again. By them time we are through we have lost count of the number of times we have played it right to the end. This is because there are so many wreaths. So many that wish to pay their respects. When the wreath laying started, it was dark. By the time it was finished, the sun has edged its way into the sky. The day has begun. 

In the crisp, early morning air, the notes of the last post ring out, welcoming the day. And then the minute silence. Apart from the squall of nearby birds, it is completely silent. No idle chatter, no phones going off, no music blaring. Actual silence, where you have room to think and remember. And so you do. 

The national anthems of Australia and New Zealand were sung, followed by the hymn Abide With Me. A choir led the way joined by those that have made the early morning journey to observe and participate. Then it was time for closing remarks followed by the final march as people separated and relaxed. The low hum of voices punctuated by laughter fills the park as friends bump into neighbours, who catch sight of old acquaintances. All the while, the sun continues to rise. 

Lest we forget.