On the way home from a recent trip to the Olympic Peninsula, I stopped off for a stroll through historic Poulsbo, where I came across this bluegrass family band. They played well, but weren’t too lively. I kept waiting for even a toe tap, but not many came. But as I sat and listened, I noticed the boy on the mandolin. He was standing off to the side, a little separate from the rest, and the despite his placid expression, he was playing intensely, though he didn’t necessarily seem to be enjoying himself.
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Chris Bronsk 