September 28, 2013


If I must set an alarm – I hate having to – I choose to wake to music instead of a computer generated sound sample from my phone. I tried one of the iPhone samples once and woke to what I thought was an invasion of aliens. Not an easy entrance into the day. 

Recently, I chose Barber’s Adagio which proved a poor choice, too. For some reason, the opening bars stirred up the image of my young mother as a girl riding on the back of her best friend’s bike as they raced down the Birchtown hill. Both blonde and blue-eyed, laughing with joy and wild nerves. 

In my mind, I could see this, but I heard nothing but the Adagio. They were flying into their hard futures, one toward an early death, the other to a war- torn marriage that brought another kind of grief and some melancholy children. 

As a child, she was happy and the knowledge of that is a bright door in a wall of gloom.

Listen to Barber’s Adagio For Strings, Opus 11, and tell me if I mishear it. And then suggest another track to accompany that image, that beautiful image.

Including a photo just because it too is beautiful.


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