Most of this collection was inspired by corn. In particular, it’s the manner in which corn behaves in the field in the moments just before and after the leading edge of a rolling thunderstorm releases raindrops upon the stalks of corn. If you didn’t grow up in the rolling plains or open fields of the American Midwest you may not fully appreciate this sensation. But don’t worry, I’ll try to bring a little taste of it to your palette.

Imagine yourself standing, sitting, lying on your back – however you prefer to imagine yourself – in an open field. In all directions you clearly see the horizon. To the west are black clouds tumbling and rolling toward you. You feel a subtle rumble under your body – that’s thunder. Then there’s a soft crackle of lightning just loud enough to capture your attention; it rolls long enough to hold your interest. Its echo announces the enormity of the world around you. Then silence. From within that silence you make out tiny pitter pattering noises. They gradually get louder. Raindrops are tap, tap, tapping on the corn stalks. Then the leaves start to rustle in the wind as the corn stalks applaud the opening performance. It’s about to rain. The first cold drop splashes on your right cheek. It feels good doesn’t it? Then it coolly trickles down your chin. You shutter in anticipation of the second movement.

The rest of this collection is about my life, me, and others who have affected me as the rain always has. This is about life inasmuch as it is about death.

This is The Flute: Second Movement.

Tim LaFave Jr

October 2005