2017 Recap

I’m happy to report another exciting year in the world of byHerndon!

  • All The Trees Clap Their Hands  was premiered by the Milton High School Indoor Drumline and received a shout out from Chad Floyd who composed “Summer Treehouse” which was featured in the show as source music.

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  • The Tipping Point (performed by the Milton High School Marching Band) was selected as a BOA Powder Springs 3rd Place Finalist
  • I had three new pieces published by Tapspace:
  • Toboggan was performed by the Creekland Middle School Percussion Ensemble at the University of Georgia Middle School Band Festival

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  • Begin Transmission was performed by the Vandegrift High School Percussion Ensemble at the Midwest Clinic


I’d like to extend a sincere thank you to everyone who has shared my work with your students and audiences this year and the happiest of New Years to everyone.

Looking forward to 2018!


The powder floats down

Like an infinite, sheer curtain.

Zoom in

and you can

Follow a single flake

Parachuting through the air

Until it lands and is lost,

Assimilated by the white frosting.

The lawn sparkles

Like the sea.

Pretzel stick limbs are smeared

With peppermint cream.

Every bush bows low

Under the weight

of pure, white snow.

Rain Beats And Beads

Much of the time,

I live in my plans and my past.

My imagination and memory;

What has been and what might be.

Much of the time, I live in my mind.


But, here, in the now,

Rain beats and beads on the glass.

On the mountain, it feeds the stream

That runs the rock so that trees might drink.

Natural art in the now I must leave my mind to see.


We’re not born knowing how to reach.

It’s something we learn over time as our parents dangle our favorite toys within our field of vision, but just outside of our grasp. We follow the toys with our never-known-defeat, not-afraid-to-admit-our-desire eyes and, one day, we raise our bratwurst arms and wriggle our anemone fingers and reach.

As a new father, it makes me so happy to see my children reach for good things that I have brought near to them.

Let’s not forget: we’re children too and it makes our Father happy to see us reach.




I see you up there, leaves.

Terrible and wonderful. I love you and I hate you.

I hate you because, soon, you’ll fall. Blanketing my lawn and smothering me in yard work.

I love you because you’re beautiful. Muting the brilliant sunlight and lending to it your green and gold. First born of all stained glass.

I have to choose: Love or hate.

And so I rake. And look up at you. And smile.