The winter chill is gone.
And while I might not mind another blizzard,
I fear that I am in the minority on that.
I must admit that it's hard not to like these temperatures
in the 50s, 60s, and 70s.
Sitting in my dining room,
or driving with the top down,
it has been wonderful
to hear that the birds are back,
and full of song.
And in this calm and serene setting,
I am reminded of particular pieces of music,
pastoral works that seem just right for the time.
For some reason,
and perhaps you can tell me why,
I think of the British.
I've been listening to Vaughan Williams and his
The Lark Ascending,
as well as his
The Lake in the Mountains,
and Six Studies in English Folksong,
which has been perfect.
I think Delius'
A Village Romeo and Juliet
would be nice too.