Circular Breathing

Google Street View Image - 
The Market Cafe in The French Quarter, New Orleans

We sat at a corner table on the outside patio, munching muffaletta sandwiches, soaking in the humid rays of the New Orleans sun, and watching our fellow tourists take in the sights of the French Quarter.  A live band was providing the soundtrack to our first afternoon on vacation.  The bass thrumbed a mellow rhythm while the keyboard punched out a few punctuated and irregular notes, and the saxophone moaned harmoniously. Overall, the scene was languid and satisfying.  Glenn and I chattered aimlessly for a while, but our conversation faded away as another sound dominated the scene.  The moaning of the saxophone had turned into a lament. One long note, lasting well beyond one minute, insisted on our attention.