The first day of September is significant and contradictory; schools and universities start their new years just as as the natural world starts to decay and die. I hope that I can learn something new, at the same time knowing that there are so many things I shall never understand, and the older I get, the less time there is. Though it is still hot, the solstice comes two-thirds of the way through the month. I shall go to Piddinghoe and buy quinces.
My mother died a year ago today. It was hard to know how, or whether, to mark this. I spent much of the day at the sailing club, probably not something of which she would have approved. An admiral's daughter, she thought recreational sailing frivolous.
In the end, I simply listened again to the music I played at her funeral:
Henry Purcell Incassum Lesbia, Incassum Rogas (The Queen's Epicedium) performed by Susan Gritton and the King’s Consort directed by Robert King
Leoš Janáček Štěbetaly laštovičky (They Chattered Like Swallows), From On an Overgrown Path, Series 1 performed by Leif Ove Andsnes
Charles Lloyd Lift Every Voice And Sing Charles Lloyd (tenor saxophone), John Abercrombie (guitar), Geri Allen (piano), Larry Grenadier (double-bass) and Billy Hart (drums)
I also played O welche Lust from Fidelio, which I had hoped to include at the service, but there was no time.
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