Nod (Tuba Quartet)

The Land of Nod Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894) From Breakfast on through all the dayAt home among my friends I stay,But every night I go abroadAfar into the land of Nod. All by myself I have to go,With none to tell me what to do--All alone beside the streamsAnd 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 abroadTill 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 clearThe 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 you