Bach in the Parking Lot

So-this is going to be a difficult one to believe. I was out running on Saturday afternoon with my little Isabelle and our sweet yellow lab Jeb. When we go running, we bring the stroller, and Isabelle will run a block or two and then she'll jump into the stroller for awhile as Jeb and I keep running and she gets a free ride. It was an absolutely gorgeous day. The sun was bright and warm, even hot, and the feel in the air was somewhat like a summer afternoon. Isabelle had on her new sundress that has grapefruits and lemons and strawberries on it.

So anyway, there we were running, around the navy base, past the Bladium Sports Club, past the huge old navy boats and the bay, past the skateboard park where the kids were whizzing along happily in the sun and performing stunts on their myriad boards. We were looking at what is an amazing view of the Bay Bridge and the city of San Francisco beyond, and commenting on how great that view is from there, when we heard, coming from somewhere, and you won't believe this, a solo cello.

The three of us stopped in our tracks and looked around us. It was definitely a cello! A very soft, very timid sounding instrument, playing one of the songs from the Suzuki book that Isabelle plays from. Where was it coming from?

There was the old navy base gym on our left across the street, and a parking lot on our right that was about three quarters full. The soulful sounds of the instrument seemed to be coming from the parking lot. It was one of those moments when you think you might be going insane...because I seem to have my sanity right now, but when hallucinations set in for me, they will probably be filled with Suzuki cello lines, as those are the lines that I teach my students, over and over. My husband sings them around the house, (much to my chagrine), long after the students have left, and I sometimes dream them at night.

Anyway, there we were, looking around for the source of the cello lines, Isabelle and Jeb and I. We followed the sounds to a spot in between two vans right there in the parking lot, where a little girl had set up a small chair and was evidently practicing her Suzuki cello pieces as her mother looked on from inside her van and gave instructions as the girl played.

"Second finger there," said the mother adamantly. "Okay, that's better, now keep going, and remember, straighten your bow..."

The little girl was very serious, and I have to say, quite good! The three of us sat to listen for awhile. There were two other sibblings in the car, and apparently one brother was playing soccer in the gym across the street. The mom was using this time as an opportunity to get the little girl's cello practice time in. She told us that the girl, Natalya, was five years old, and that her siblings all played Suzuki violin.

So, she played "Etude" for us, and a few other pieces. I watched closely, comparing this Natalya, who was a little older than my Isabelle, to my girl celloistically. I think Isabelle rates pretty good, that is, I think the girls are pretty comparable as cellists, although Natalya seemed to be reading, and Isabelle plays by ear.

We exchanged phone numbers, and I hope to get Isabelle together with this little cellist to play music and have some fun.

As we ran the rest of the way home, it seemed to me to be a bit of a miracle to hear some cello lines coming from between two vans in a parking lot. What are the chances of that?

That night, I e-mailed Natalya's mother, who lives in Albany, and asked if we could get together sometime soon. It's two days later now, and I have not heard back yet. It's no surprise. She has four kids under the age of ten, and they all are musicians! She has her hands full there. If I don't hear from her though, I might just conclude that this was all a strange dream.