Tuesday 03 November
There is a weird sense of the inevitable but also of the unpredictable.
The second lockdown in England is coming on Thursday. Wales, Northern Ireland and Scotland have already been living with lockdown style restrictions. Nervousness is growing amongst people I know, despite us arguably being much better prepared than before.
Across the Atlantic the polling stations are closing from the east coast to the west across the time zones. Eyes are focussed on the key battle states such as Florida and Pennsylvania. This is happening to a backdrop of Covid 19 and over 230,000 deaths so far.
I love the radio. I always have done for music and sport, but as I have got older it’s the spoken word that I increasingly tune in to. That and classical music. Why is that?
Anyway, I was listening to the radio on my way home from work this evening and heard a piece of music by Schubert. Accompanying it was a quote from him and his music; “When I wished to sing of love, it turned to sorrow. And when I wished to sing of sorrow, it was transformed for me into love.”
Late last night, news broke from Vienna, of a gunman who had seemingly open-fired indiscriminately on the public. This was the eve of a national lockdown in Austria, starting today. Franz Schubert was born in Vienna. The piece above was recommended by the Mayor of Vienna for its citizens to use to contemplate what is good about the world and their city.
A quote is a powerful thing. A small collection of words are so memorable and easily reusable. They allow for reflection. One of my personal favourites is from Gustav Mahler “But it’s peculiar, as soon as I am in the midst of nature and by myself, everything that is base and trivial vanishes without trace.” That brings me back to the post of yesterday.
The Bald Birder 