Analect 2.33x

31 January 2007. Gray on gray. Yellow street lamps before dawn, far end of the block, through branches of camphor trees. Song of a dove. Steady note, then higher, then gently falling. At intervals, again now and again. Last night: the Louvin Brothers. No doves there. Fire and brimstone more likely...at least in Ira's lyrics. Ira Louvin--a man possessed...down to his name. Meant every word, too. Hill country salvation--Sand Mountain--massive plateau in the northwest corner of Georgia--violent and remote... Was it the isolation or the poverty--or simply the starkness of it all... Charlie: "I think my brother was tortured by religion." And yet, not to believe... Cattle and kind. Sheep grazing on a hillside--cows, too. Jazzbo prancing through the fence gate, late late afternoon--leading the ewes down steep meadow path to waiting barn...soft white doves there, too--high on the eves, evening calls...