I keep asking myself, "Don't you want music? Try some of the jazz you downloaded last week or the classical on your ipod." As I push my walker around the house during a slow recovery from back surgery the porch door remains open. The song of early September crickets filters in on the sounds of rustling leaves and the beginning of evening traffic on 75th Street. I can't imagine how any recorded music (even Keith Jarrett at Carnegie Hall) can top the live performance of right now . . . late afternoon as fall shadows begin to drop and march to the edge of our cool brick driveway.