The Nocturnal Moments

The speaker talks about their love for muted colors and the solitude of swampy wetlands. They share a story about a night they spent at Algonquin Park, where they admired the moonlit reflection on Smoke Lake. They mention their passion for drumming and how painting allows them to be alone and absorb these moments in their memory. They invite listeners to join them on the Lost Paddler podcast series and share the experience with others. ever wished you could be a fly on the wall in the studio of an artist to figure out how they do what they do? You're listening to the Lost Paddler podcast series. I get it. There's lots of color out there. So much to be painted and I've done my share. I enjoy it like anybody. But there's times when I just love the muted sounds, the muted sights, the muted colors, the earth tones of the swampy things. The swampy wetlands just like where I am right now. I guess you could say that I really gravitate to those moments of solitude. Those feelings when you just sense that you're not alone even though there's nobody else around. You look out into the sky and you see the light is disappearing. The forest is getting darker and the water blackens as the night draws near. You should be afraid. In fact, maybe there's a little bit of excitement in the air because you know that deep in those forests all around you there is life. The night creatures are coming out. They've been sleeping all day, hiding under their rocks, snuggled underneath some bushes. And now it's time to come out and begin their daytime, which is actually our nighttime. And those are the nocturnal creatures. And right now, I'm one of them. I'll never forget the first time. I have made many trips into the forest, but the first time that I experienced the night in this truly solemn, nocturnal kind of a way. I was scheduled to play drums for a band in Huntsville. And we were going to be playing at the very big, very classy five-star resort in town. They have these stages there and they have all kinds of big acts that come in and perform. And although the act that I was with was not a big act at all, it was a woman's conference and I was in the band that was playing their entertainment for the evening. We would usually play a set or two. And there would be a speaker for the evening with their notes well prepared, and the group's sitting in their chairs waiting to hear every word. And when it would be all done, we'd say a few hellos, maybe have a little bite to eat afterwards together. And then off to our rooms we would go. Most band members at that point like to get together and go watch videos or head into town and catch sports at the local watering hole or whatever. But on that particular night, I knew that I was just 20 minutes away from paradise. Just down the street from Huntsville was Algonquin Park. This is many years ago, and I hadn't made very many trips to Algonquin by that point. But on this particular night, I was full of energy. I just wanted to experience what one of the lakes would be like with the reflecting moonlight. I looked outside and I noticed that the skies were clear, and the winds were calm. I couldn't wait to get there. Anybody who's been to Algonquin Park knows this spot. It's pretty iconic. Smoke Lake along Highway 60. There's a little parking spot there. And you can step out onto a little bit of a, shall we call it a peninsula. There's some trees with some very gnarly roots that reach out into the lake and grab around the rocks. If you're going at nighttime, you have to be pretty careful. It's not lit at all. But on this night, the moonlight was bright. I stepped out carefully, gingerly making sure not to slip. If you land in the water at this time of the night, there's no telling when anyone will discover you. There's certainly no one around that can hear you call. You're really on your own. And it was midnight. I settled down on a rock, and I looked out across the lake. There it was, the reflection of the moon. And you could see the deep, deep Prussian blueness of the sky on top of the jet black water. It just rippled with the movements of a loon. There were water bugs and little creatures moving about, but the only thing you could see was the ripple they left behind, magnified by that moonlight. This was so many years ago that I don't think I even had a cell phone at that time. But I did have a 35 millimeter camera, and I snapped some shots. Boy, we don't know how spoiled we are these days with these phones. Their light sensitivity is so grand, and unfortunately my film shots just weren't that good. But my memory was sharp as a blade. I really could only afford a few minutes. I had to get back. Well, we needed to rest up because the next day would be a busy day. Drumming, after all, is my other passion. It always has been since I was a child, and now I got the opportunity to use it, and to play, and to stand in front of crowds, perform in front of crowds. I really enjoy that. It's just a kind of an alter ego of mine. I always wanted to be a drummer, but you know the problem with musicians is it requires so many other elements to make it successful. And there came a point for me when I realized that, well, I can still do that, but this other thing that I love to do just as much, this painting thing, is something that I can do all by myself. And all by myself is exactly how I was that night on Smoke Lake. It inspired me for many years to come, right until the present. Now, no matter where I go, no matter what trip I take, I always try to squeeze in a little bit of the nocturnal. Once again, it's so easy to be captured by all the color of the daytime. It's so easy to be enveloped by all the brilliance that we all enjoy so much. I always make sure that I budget a little bit of time in the evening for those very, very earthy moments. It also happens to be that I'm a very solemn person. I like to be around my friends. I most definitely love and cherish my time with my family. But I'm a person who enjoys the moments of solitude as much as anything. And as an artist, it's when I absorb. These things get buried in my memory. They become a part of my soul, and later on, in days and weeks, months, and even years later in the studio, they come out. And that, and there, and then, is when I'm able to share those beautiful, solemn, nocturnal moments with you. That is when you can join me. And it's also a beautiful thing that you can take that experience and bring it home with you and keep it forever. Thank you so much for dropping in and spending a little bit of time with me here on the Lost Paddler podcast series. If you've enjoyed this episode, by all means, invite others to enjoy with you, share it, and watch next week for the new edition of the Lost Paddler podcast series, right here on audio.com and robertmcafee.com.