to be a witness to the birth and rise of this star must have been something special. a folk angel with the sweet voice of a morning songbird. i remember growing up, my mother putting on joni early sunday mornings, when the mountain air was still cool and crisp. i would often attempt to emulate her sound and always failed miserably. i wish i could have seen her strumming her guitar, her golden hair shimmering in the sunlight, hundreds of thousands of people watching at woodstock. still beloved and beautiful. sweet joni mitchell.
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