by Charmie Gholson
The shadows are long. The leaves are falling. My four-year-old is smacking the daylights out of every ball I throw to him. He straightens from his stance and asks, "What's that?" I, too, stop and listen. At first, I assume it's just the never ending construction near our house, but this has a brighter rhythm and . . . horns?
Arts and Entertainment reviews and news.>> Blogs