PROGRAM NOTES

There was something very special about visiting my grandparents in Vermont.  As darkness began to fall, I would slide open the back door and step out onto the porch; the scent of crisp air mixed with the smoldering barbeque filled my lungs.  The silhouettes of trees surrounded me, and through them, the cold breeze would emanate under the wispy clouds.  The woodsy sounds of the autumn night welcomed the serenity that I could only associate with Wilmington, which I remember from my past.  Sometimes when I take a deep breath into the night air, it brings me back to nights on my grandparents’ porch beneath the trees.