In the Distance

The windows were openly welcoming the breeze. Somewhere in the distance, I thought I heard a piccolo play. I found the notion both beguiling and strange. You see, I rarely pay piccolos much due.

It was a sweet ditty. Repeated over and time again. I pictured a small child, sitting on the edge of a bed, sheet music arrayed on a stand before her. She practices making soft sounds...music. Again and again and over again. This fugue of mine was comforting. These innate qualities of the human soul...to create, to strive, to pursue beauty...constitute a bedrock of comfort and hope. To serve us (as needed).

So there I sat, lost in a sweet dream, when the ditty grew appreciably louder...then much louder still. I heard the motor of our friendly neighborhood ice cream vendor’s wagon mutter its way down my drive. Those soft and plaintive piccolo notes were synthesized, digitized and amplified tones cheaply replicating an organ-grinder’s repertoire.

Funny how things change, yet every moment remains so very real.

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And now, for those of you who wish to spend nine minutes with eyes gently closed and ears wide open (and let’s toss in sweet breezes at your cheek while we’re at it), here is the “Scene aux champs” from Hector Belioz’s Symphonie Fantastique (one of my most beloved passages in classical music):

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