I sit at my desk.
Trying to put my thoughts into a logical post.
Distractions are never ending… oh I need to start a packing list!
Fed up with trying to think I turn on “The Best of Chopin” on Youtube and listen.
Ahhh, classical music.
There’s really not much like it.
Classical music and I have a long and steady relationship, not all played by my hands but more on the listening ear side of things.
I remember chilly winter mornings - when it seems winter will never end.
My mom, with her blue coffee mug in hand, trying to get us girls settled down for school.
Finally placing a shiny round disc into the CD player, Handle’s beautiful Hallelujah chorus would willing float into the room.
Yes, Beethoven has settled many a weary day.
The calming aroma that surrounds a piece of classical music is one that is hard to compare.
Sometimes I close my eyes and just let the music carry me.
It could lead me to a meadow of a thousand poppies, or perhaps a castle on an Irish hillside.
Into the dense jungle foliage as I read my favourite missionary biography.
Sometimes I wonder where the composers were when the music came.
Did they stop everything and run to a piano and start playing a beautiful piece?
Was it created out of hours sitting in front of the ivory keys labouring over each note?
Some probably composed out of deep personal anguish.
Thinking about the person behind the notes definitely puts a personal touch on it all.
Overall I am pretty sure that they were made from the heart.
-end of thoughts