Nod (Tuba Quartet)

The Land of Nod

Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894)

From Breakfast on through all the day
At home among my friends I stay,
But every night I go abroad
Afar into the land of Nod.

All by myself I have to go,
With none to tell me what to do--
All alone beside the streams
And up the mountain-sides of dreams.

The strangest things are there for me,
Both things to eat and things to see,
And many frightening sights abroad
Till morning in the land of Nod.

Try as I like to find the way,
I never can get back by day,
Nor can remember plain and clear
The curious music that I hear.

This poem is in the public domain

This quartet takes us on a journey through the wondrous and limitless world that exists only at night when our eyes are closed. Unshackled from all the things in our daily lives that keep us moored to our realities, pleasant or otherwise, our dreams allow us to be different people and travel to places otherwise unreachable.

As the work opens, we're in those final moments at night, when you feel your mind detaching from the conscious thoughts of the stresses you're experiencing at the moment; that light-headed feeling of relaxing - not just physically, but also mentally. Entering into the world of sleeping and dreaming, our mind starts to go to where it wants to; those inexplicable adventures set against vivid and amazing, albeit imaginary landscapes.

But, alas, these things must all come to a close. As the sun begins to enter through the slats of the blinds, moving slowly across the room until it hits your face, you're stirred and awakened, brought back to reality - and finally needing to jump out of bed to begin the day anew.