I went to the annual Rhinecliff Talent Show at the Morton Memorial
Library this past Friday night. The talent show, much like the community is a
small slice of magic, with a certain Norman Rockwellish
charm. Rhinecliff is a community like no other I have known. More
so than the gifts that are showcased at the talent show and the performances
that are shared, is this common thread of gratitude, of acceptance, of humility
and cohesion. Of course like any other town it must have it’s
share of discordance but I will spare you that, much the way Norman Rockwell
did in featuring his town and it's lively citizens in his many iconic illustrations.
Rhinecliff, in my unabashed opinion, is this incredible place,
secreted away along a winding road with a few intersecting offshoot streets and
roads that connect together an assortment of dwellings that house approximately
329 inhabitants. Rhinecliff is a river town. It is more
of the outskirts of another town, or to those that don’t know any better, it
is merely a hamlet of that larger town. It is the other-side-of-the-tracks
part of town, or at least along-the-tracks part of town. (The
only other side being the Hudson River.) It is, to those that are
fortunate enough to reside here, a little piece of heaven.
I look forward to this talent show annually hosted, graciously so, by one of the local librarians. The show brings together the
community right about the time we are all busting at the seams with cabin fever
and far too many carbohydrates and collectively in need of an outlet, or
event. We may even need a reminder that we are all alive and well
and bursting with a readiness for spring. The talent amassed in
one small community is impressive to say the least.
One particular performance at the talent show this year seemed to
capture the spirit of place. A girl and her father walked onto stage, just as
her name was chanted in playful joy and encouragement, or
delight. They took their places with calm poise, as smiles from the
audience beamed toward, or maybe were reflected back from. Lovely
and lissome, this child emanates a bit of small town piousness and
grace. She glows.
We, who have been to the talent show have watched her grow from a child into the beautiful young woman she is becoming. There is almost an audible gasp at her metamorphic transition. The father shares as he is announcing their song, they have lived here three years. I recognize this pronouncement, or the need for it. I know this keeping of time here is important from my own experience. It seems to be a common part of the experience. There seems a desire to state aloud we are here, in this place, we have lasted, and came through something, and we survived and are thriving once more. It seems to me almost palpable throughout the community, there is a tacit understanding that because we live here, there is more value to us, and this place because of this union. It may simply be we have come here and have gratitude for the beauty, the charm, the eclectic architecture growing from hilltops and cliffs and meandering knolls, if there is such a thing as knolls that meander.
Rhinecliff has this way of giving it's inhabitants a certain
amount of gratitude and a great deal of appreciation. I came to this
hamlet with the last bit of grit I had left in me, by chance, or by luck,
although it might have seemed the contrary to those that could not
know. I came here stunned and slightly stumbling with an adolescent
son and an unwavering tenacity to protect him and provide for him and ensure
that he was loved and cared for. And I came here with little else. Coming
here saved me, it strengthened and nourished me, whole again. It reminded
me of the gifts I had to share and so much more.
Rhinecliff has this way of bringing one in from the storms of
life. Without eradicating all the wreckage caused by the force of our
individualized tempests, it embraces us as we are. It has this way of
tempering and smoothing down the sails against future storms. Rhinecliff
helps one to learn to capture the wind and soar again. At least that has
been my experience.
The father, accompanying his beautiful daughter, whom have lived
here for three years now, begin their duet. A Neil Young song, Comes
a Time, is sung, softly, and slower than the original
version. The words, the melody, the timings, lead me to believe they
are singing and strumming to honor a time perhaps of struggle that they have
passed through. I don't know this, their story; they may simply be Neil
Young fans. They delight us all.
Comes a time
when you're driftin'
Comes a time
when you settle down
Comes a light
feelin's liftin'
Rhinecliff seems to take in the tired, the poor, of spirit or
otherwise, the brave travelers, wizened adventurers, wretched refuse of
a teeming shore. The tempest-tost. The huddled
masses, come to the talent show, happily anticipating sharing an intimate
glimpse into the best of their neighbors for one brief moment, or being those
that share. The talent show is the most perfect blending of
community. Where young and old share a space, share food and drink, share
laughter and share gifts. Families, couples, friends, and neighbors
gather. Singers, dancers, artists, all, perform and display and share a
bit of themselves not otherwise known beyond their own doorways, or before
coming to this place of acceptance. Rhinecliff receives you where
you are.
But when the time comes, this place will lift you,
lift that baby,
right up off the ground,
and set you towards the wind and watch you sail wherever you may
choose, strengthened and nourished and whole once more.
Comes a time
when you're driftin'
Comes a time
when you settle down
Comes a light
feelin's liftin'
Lift that baby
right up off the ground.
Oh, this old world
keeps spinning round
It's a wonder tall trees
ain't layin' down
There comes a time.
You and I we were captured
We took our souls
and we flew away
We were right
we were giving
That's how we kept
what we gave away.
Oh, this old world
keeps spinning round
It's a wonder tall trees
ain't layin' down
There comes a time.
Thank you Rhinecliff for the talents and gifts of many, and the
opportunity to see the glowing love between a father and his child, growing
strong. Oh and thank you Neil Young, and Emma Lazarus. And
especially a certain librarian named Sandy, for all you do above and beyond the
call of duty!
