I have loved music, and singing, since I was very small. I've been on two other overseas singing tours, one in Europe and one in the UK. I have had the great privilege of singing with some marvelous conductors, and for some momentous events. I have never before had so much fun as I'm having, being on the road with this wonderful group of people.

We've been singing this music, most of it, for several months; we know it pretty much inside out. And yet, in each concert, as we get to the Randall Thompson "Alleluia," and "How Can I Keep From Singing?", I find myself suddenly moved to tears - by the beauty of the music, by the beauty of our surroundings, by the sheer joy of singing.

I noticed this particularly last evening, as we were singing here in the Czech Republic. The words of the second verse of "How Can I Keep From Singing?" struck me in particular, thinking of the long and troubled history of this country, and its people –

When tyrants tremble, sick with fear, and hear their death knells ringing;
when friends rejoice both far and near, how can I keep from singing?
In prison cell or dungeon vile, our thoughts to them are winging;
when friends by shame are undefiled, how can I keep from singing?

As we were lining up to enter the church last night, a man in a yellow t-shirt walked up and asked where we were from. I told him; it turned out that he and his wife were from Brattleboro, VT, had been traveling for about 24 hours, and had arrived in Cesky Krumlov 2 hours previous – and they came to hear us sing! And they stayed for the whole hour, which tremendously impressed me, remembering how badly jetlagged I was Saturday (and we hadn’t traveled nearly as long as these good folks). Speaking to them afterward, they were just thrilled to have heard us and immensely enjoyed the experience.

That had best be all from me for now; more later, as time permits.