Easter Sunday was a perfect day for me, from start to finish. A frosty sunrise, to a sunny, increasingly warm day with a hot afternoon before the evening clouded over again. By then, I welcomed the drop in temperature. Nevertheless, at the hottest time of the day, how pleasant it was to have sat under trees by a loch watching butterfllies - such delicate creatures to have come through the last harsh winter. Easter seems to be the time, when all around us we can see Nature's hand in the creation of new life beginning again.
Yesterday, invited to visit an art exhibition in a church, at the venue there were bookmarks with the picture of a butterfly settled on some blossom and the statement "Easter, time to begin again" - an interesting selection of words open to many interpretations. Later, looking at butterfly photographs I had just taken, I thought again about the bookmark phrase in connection with words a best friend had read to me on Good Friday. Whilst on the phone, she accidently knocked items to the floor and stopping to pick these up, she read to me some words from where a book's page had opened - beginning with the sentence about time, that "There is a right time for everything: A time to be born and a time to die." And we had talked about this, myself remembering my mum saying "people fear death and yet, some die without ever having lived and that should be feared much more." How precious was our time, our share of life.
TIME: There is a right time for everything;
There is a right time for everything;
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant;
A time to harvest;
A time to kill;
A time to heal;
A time to destroy;
A time to rebuild;
A time to cry;
A time to laugh;
A time to grieve;
A time to dance;
A time for scattering stones;
A time for gathering stones;
A time to hug;
A time not to hug;
A time to find;
A time to lose;
Easter - Time to begin again?
A time for keeping;
A time for throwing away;
A time to tear;
A time to repair;
A time to be quiet;
A time to speak up;
A time for loving;
A time for waiting;
A time for war;
A time for peace.
All around nature is beginning again, flowers coming in to bloom, young animals being born, birds nesting on eggs soon to hatch. To do something 'again', some can focus on an action being repeated because it wasn't done correctly the first time around. Yet surely, it is more liberating to focus on the positive - that with wisdom from past experiences, a person can take a new opportunity to "begin again". So, here is to new beginnings at the start of a New Year, at Easter or indeed, whenever they are taken - "Life is to be lived!"
The verse above about 'Time' is from the Bible, Ecclesiastes Chptr 3. And I think, whether a person is religious or not, The Bible can make interesting, thought provoking reading. In this chapter, the passage moves on to question "What does a person really get from hard work" and states "Everything is appropriate in its own time." We can not see from the beginning to the end of eternity but we can conclude "there is nothing better than to be happy and to enjoy oneself as long as possible - to eat, drink and enjoy the fruits of our labour."
With a smile, I could translate the above as knowing when it's the right time to go with the flow and when instead, it's the time to paddle as hard as you can! Yes, sometimes, it is best to drift down stream with the current but, at other times, you need to face the immediate situation - find the strength required to paddle your own boat against the flow, safely steering your own course (as best as you can) through whatever storm in life it is that you face.
Yet, after the storm, embracing the need to pull your boat safely up on to the shore, taking time out for a walk to relax and reflect. By a loch, on a beach or looking down from a hill at the beauty below. Anywhere scenic is always a great place to think and focus the thoughts so that calm and refreshed we are ready to "begin again".
Easter Sunday, my day perfect from start to finish. Some clouds at sunrise causing the sun to illuminate the sky with an orangey hue. Then the continuing sunshine warming up the earth so that dormont butterflies took to the air. Then in the evening, after a long, hot day, the temperature finally dropped and by then, high above East Lothian on the Duns Road, I watched the misty clouds roll over the Firth of Forth. Time, is as always moving on. Easter Sunday drawing to a close before the start of the post holiday working week and my Monday morning - a time to begin again.
Easter, a time of the year which means all sorts of different things to people. From a period of religious celebration, to an opportunity to spend a weekend walking around superstore sales buying items for the house. For me, Easter is a time for getting outdoors and seeing new life beginning with flowers in bloom and spring lambs in the fields.
Constant visits to shops result in buying much more than we need and it seems to me - less is more!
When we are starting out in life, we can work so hard to gain skills and qualifications to get that better paid "more successful job" - but it's important to stop and consider, "what is success?". If we aim for a goal, what do we do when we achieve it? Do we continue to push on, set new goals or do we actually enjoy that we've accomplished what we set out to?
I have owned a couple of houses in my life, all bought because of the principle "location, location, location". Indeed, I always smile when I recall the absolute shock of my boss (back then) who, when visiting my house for the first time, blurted out in a horrified voice "This is it? What sort of statement does this house make, it's tiny?" I remember laughing and saying I didn't buy my house to make a statement but to live in! Near enough to my work in Edinburgh but with beautiful views of the sea and with easy access to the city bypass and surrounding coutryside (my boss and I were good friends but we were both people with very different values and priorities).
Nevertheless with my second house, again bought for the view, it was much larger. And when it came time to leave, and half packed boxes and chaos seemed all around me, I thought to myself "time to downsize! But, where to begin?" Sitting on my bed to think that through, I moved my fiddle and camera (all placed there with my laptop for safety) and that was my 'Eureka moment' - did I really need much more than my fiddle, camera and laptop, to live and enjoy life?
Out for a drive yesterday evening a few miles from Edinburgh, no where particularly special, I was watching the sun sinking behind a hill and a 'field of coos.' Such simple things are worth appreciating. At this time of the year, all around us new life is beginning. Time is, as always, moving on but in ALL ways it is so very precious. Each day consisting of 24 hours in which a series of opportunities will pass by us each, chances that we can take (Carpe Diem) to make a day remarkable or, chances lost, so that the day of potential ends with the sun setting on time that has only served to come and go. Yet, our lives are built up from the chapters in which these individual days have been gathered - lives shaped by choices that have been made.
Watching wee lambs running around in the fields, stopping their antics to run up to their mums and watch me (as if saying - "Mum, why's that woman watching us?"). And the young calves too, like this curious little critter last night, fascinated, wanting to come over and investigate me and my camera but instead giving a nervous "Moo" to his mum. Such simple but such lovely things, just to take the time out to stand and watch nature on a still evening in the countryside, far away from the hustle, bustle and noises of the town.
Yes, the Easter weekend may be an opportunity to "go to the sales" or get that "DIY project in the house completed" but I hope that there is also enough time put aside just to "enjoy life". Time passes by us all so quickly and if we had a goal to live in a certain house, to buy certain nice things or own that special car we always wanted - when we have attained these goals, surely then, is it not time to take the foot of the accelerator through life, to slow down and enjoy the view. If you have read to here in my Blog, thank you - and now maybe, it's time to get outdoors? Taking more time to fully enjoy life. Is this Easter a time for the shops and buying more clutter for your house? (Possessions you probably don't all need.) Or, is less actually more? More time to really live and enjoy the beauty that is all around us, to find time to stop and smell the flowers!
Happy Easter and may you enjoy your dance through life!
Oh yes and, I nearly forgot about chocolate and bunnies!
May the magic Easter Bunny come in from the fields to visit you this Sunday morning with lots of Chocolate Easter eggs!
One of my favourite memories of Easter is from Feakle, Co. Clare in Ireland. Staying there, with this lovely family - I was woken early on Easter Sunday morning by a great commotion! The door to the garden had been thrown open and the young children were tearing all round the garden at great speed looking for chocolate eggs that the Easter Bunny had hidden. (I never saw this 'tradition' celebrated in Scotland but it was wonderful to see such great excitement!).
Just think - If you run round your garden enough you can work off all the calories of the Chocolate Easter eggs you'll eat. And, think of the entertainment value you'll give your neighbours!!!;-D
You can think through many thoughts whilst watching a sunset. Here are some of mine from last night as I enjoyed one of the most beautiful sunsets I've seen over the Firth of Forth. Waves gently breaking on the shore, the welcome sound of Eider ducks calling to each other, a blackbird singing from a tree - a magical end to a beautiful day.
I love how the colours of the sky can change so quickly. For me, no one picture can ever truly capture a sunset. The whole sky, an ever changing work of art, the canvas on which Mother Nature works her magic. Illuminated by natural light, an ever constant creation. Subtle changes as we watch, as our eye scans the horizon to observe one part and then, when we cast our gaze back, the colours where we looked have changed. A unique work of art to end our day. Colours moving, changing, deepening and then - gone. Only the sparkle of stars in a clear night's sky, the potential promise of a sunrise to alight a fresh picture painted by nature's pallet of glowing colours.
Tonight, as the sun slipped far below the horizon, the deeping colours stilled me to sit a while and soak in the tranquility. And, as I watched, the sparkle of Fidra Lighthouse shone out across the waters. Fidra, the island whose shape is said to have inspired Robert Louis Stevenson in his most famous book "Treasure Island." The lighthouse was actually built in 1885 by members of Stevenson's family - David and Thomas Stevenson. Indeed, around the coast of Scotland there are more than 200 lighthouses, the majority of these lighthouses built by the civil engineering genuises which were the Stevesons but - not Robert Louis Stevenson, he carved his own path.
Born in 1850, Robert was expected to follow in his family's footsteps but after three years as a civil engineer apprentice he changed to legal studies. Yet still, it was writing which was his passion. Developing a debilitating respiratory illness, early in life he became determined to become a professional writer. Much of his work was written from his sick bed and finally, poor health encouraged him to travel away from the harsh Scottish climate. At 26 he met, fell in love with and went on to marry an American art student. Finally, they settled on the island of Upolu in Samoan where locals called him "Tusitala" (teller of tales). He continued to write but in 1890, at 44, Stevenson died of a stroke - but what he had made of his short life!
A quote by him is posted on my kitchen wall: "Never underate the duty of being happy". Despite his illness, RLS became famous in his own lifetime and respect for his work has continued to grow through time. His first steps away from his family's path, his desire to be a writer was not encouraged. Yet, from history, he is probably now more famous than the civil enginners of his family who mariners owe so much gratitude too. For me, the story of RLS serves to indicate that everyone is different and that the world is all the better for that. Great civil engineers are much required but so too are the creative talents of those who make the world a better place through work which can be shared and enjoyed.
Sat on the hill above North Berwick, looking to Fidra and up along the Forth, I reflected on Robert Louis Stevenson's life. For a time he had tried to become a civil engineer but that was not for him... How fortunate for us all that he broke away from the path of conformity and followed his heart. Too often the cautious voice inside can be silenced by the "wise words of those who know better" (?). I think we are more likely to have a better understanding of our heart's desire than the view of an outsider looking in BUT it can be difficult to find the confidence required to go it alone. Just over five years ago "some friend" said to me I was wasting my time with photography, I would never be any good and it was boring to watch me try - what crushing words these were at that time. Yet, I was a fool to take them to heart. A more appropriate response would have been to have said "so what?" If we really love something then the happiness that comes from that creative pursuit should not be ignored. Thankfully, it was encouragement from my mum who got me to look again at photography as a hobby. I absolutely adore it so thank goodness she did! and tonight, standing up from the bench on my scenic view point, I decided to take this photo to share with others here.
So, what were my Celtic Reflections tonight? What conclusions did I reach? As I looked out at the dark waters of the Firth of Forth I thought about the fishermen and sailors who need the light that shines from Fidra lighthouse. I thought too of Robert Louis Stevenson, the courage he found to carve out his own path, his literary work which still shines today. As he said, never under rate the duty to be happy and I would add to that - if you have a creative hobby which lights your soul then, don't neglect that either. At the end of the day, when you look back on life you can pretty much see that it doesn't matter what others think or simply - let there be light.
Listen to your own heart and "Let Your Light Shine"
"Sing a Song for Davy Steele" - to mark the tenth anniversary of Davy's passing, his wife Patsy, family and friends are asking people to sing one of his many songs - to commemorate him and celebrate his amazing musical gift and the rich legacy he has left behind for us all.
Sing a song of Davy’s on 11-4-11, in any way, in any place
At your gig, at the pub, at home or at work, in the car or even in the bath - just sing!
Afterwards, please visit the Davy Steele Website and let them know on the guestbook what you did. Words are also available from this site or from Patsy at patsy@patsyseddon.plus.com
Farewell to the Haven was chosen as the first track of the People and Songs of the Sea compilation album. I originally met Davy through the Edinburgh folk scene, a local man from Prestonpans, East Lothian. In Farewell to the Haven, Davy's song so perfectly captures the heartfelt sadness of those who must face the economic decision to leave the fishing for better paid work - a song written some years ago but even more relevant today as the rising cost of fuel often makes it more costly to take a boat out to sea than (even with harbours dues to be paid) than to leave it tied up. In these current, most difficult of times, many boats around Scotland's coast are being sold off.
Farewell to the Haven - is my blog and a Youtube video that I am currently working on in tribute to Davy Steele. When I have finished my blog and video clip, the final version will be posted here.
RIP Davy, your music and songs live on with us all, 11.04.11
The Girl Jean at Port Seton Harbour
FAREWELL TAE THE HAVEN by Davy Steele
I’m leavin the fishin the life I have known
The battles wi nature that nobody’s won
The fish stocks are dwindling and the shoals hard tae find
I’m leaving the fishing I’ve made up my mind
Fareweel tae the Haven my hert it is sad
The drifters I’m leaving tae work on the land
My faither worked drifters and my grandfaither tae
My brother’s a skipper on the Elena Mae
I worked at the fishin just as soon as I could
So leaving’s no easy the sea’s in my blood
I’ll miss the wee boats though my thoughts are there yet
Wi the lads on the Jeannie haulin the net
We worked hard together and we laughed hard as well
Cursin the weather and riding the swell
I’ll work in the wire mill it’s a good job they say
I’ll start and I’ll finish the same time every day
The money is constant and my wife she seems pleased
Ah but I’ll miss the fishin and I’ll miss the sea
A sunset picture from 2006 - at the time I thought the vans 'spoilt' my photo.
They were waiting for fishing boats to come in, only a leisure boat was left.
Just as leisure boats have replaced the fishing boats of Fisherrow.
Other local harbours have seen fishing boat numbers decline.
Now in 2011 I look back, glad the vans were in my photo.
Yesterday, in support of peace, it has been estimated that 10,000 people marched in Omagh, Northern Ireland. The march was organised following the murder on 2.04.2011 of a newly serving police officer, 33 year old Ronan Kerr. Many of those marching for peace carried pictures of Ronan with the slogan "NOT IN MY NAME" and I, like Ireland's majority, hope that the Irish peace process is not destroyed by recent re-emerging troubles.
The march for peace was organised, in just a few days, by 29 year Gareth McElduff - a person with a Facebook account who read of Ronan's murder and felt he had to 'do something". When one person makes a stand, others can come forward and show their support for the cause. I dearly love Ireland, it's culture, it's land and of course the people. I desperatly hope that the small minority trying to wreck Ireland's peace process achieve nothing. I remember Ireland's troubled times and no one should ever aim to return to these days.
Recently, the economy of the once strong "Celtic Tiger" has suffered greatly. The Irish are experiencing one of the nation's worst recessions and, as the economy struggles to make some ground, it needs all the support it can get eg: from tourism bringing money in to Ireland. Foreign visitors do not want to go to an area where there is trouble and those living there - they want to be able to get on with their lives without fear of violence. (Girl 5 stood beside car bomb, waving to fun runners). Whatever a person's religion, whatever their point of view - differences can be resolved through dialogue. As with those who marched for peace and in respect of Ronan Kerr, I hope that everyone (in Ireland and abroad) will support the peace process.
Joining recent UK music tours, I saw a fiddle player's second violin left alone in his dressing room, that sight and resulting Haiku being the catalyst to this Blog.
Haikus are a form of Japanese poetry. Dubliners fiddle player John Sheahan writes these very well and his work has encouraged me to try some. Haiku are three line structures of five syllables, seven and five. Here, Haiku reflect the story of a fiddle waiting to be brought to life through music.
It could seem strange that the sight of an unattended fiddle could spark such creative reflection but “life can turn on a sixpence.” Things happen and as time passes by we can see events that took us off in new directions... Twenty years ago, working with the BBC, I went to interview the Dubliners. Having met up with them most years in between, in 2011, their arrival in Scotland coincided with a new chapter for myself as I very much reconnected again with the 'joys' of playing music.
Being with everyone, the supporting crew equally included by me when I mention the Dubliners, it was great to share old memories, enjoy the craic and for me especially, to be saturated again in music. Also, to feel encouraged to explore "the creative fun" in reading and writing poems - even to find the “FUN” in Shakespeare's sonets (something no school teacher ever inspired me to see). Times with friends, times enjoying creative interests, they provide insight in to what is important - that our most precious resource is time and that life needs to be fully lived and enjoyed.
Grand Theatre Blackpool
For me, I've realised that my music needs to have a bigger place in my life than it’s had in recent years – that fact dawning on me some place along the “Rocky Road to Blackpool” travelling across country from the Dubliners gig in Newcastle, to Blackpool. A journey which gave me time to think. So later that evening, when I stood in the wings of a beautiful theatre in Blackpool (listening to the music and with my camera in hand) I felt very privilleged and pleased to be there at their concert.
Years back, almost in another life, I worked at the Vatican Museums and this theatre in Blackpool reminded me of the Sistine Chapel. I enjoyed working in Italy but, after many months working over there, when I came back I had lost all my music ‘residencies” and that space in my private life then got filled by doing a MBA in the evenings and ever increasing demands from my career. Playing music pretty much drifted out of my life but in Blackpool, I knew there was a whole load of tunes that I wanted to learn. Complex tunes written by John (which I had needed to develop my musical abilities first before I could play them) plus heaps of trad tunes Barney McKenna had encouraged me with over the years. Then of course, all the other wealth of music that is out there and is always being contributed to.
On a cold, rainy evening, Blackpool was an inspirational place. "The buzz" from so many people gathered together to celebrate music, sing songs and enjoy the craic. In contrast, the last time I was in the Sistine Chapel I was doing a Security Check, photographing Fire Exits, I had had to fight my way through crowds of tourists (in the Millennium Year 20,000 visitors a day could pass through the Vatican Museums). Squashed indoors, in the oppressive dry heat of a late Italian Summer's day, I had no wonderment for Michael Angelo's paintings above my head. In contrast, I fully appreciated this theatre in Blackpool, it was gorgeous to stand and look out at such a lovely place! The atmosphere seemed full of ghosts from performances past and even graffiti caused me to smile. Back stage some luvie had written "It is better to give than to receive" Oscar Wilde. Below, another had written "Even a handbag?" Yes, I was enjoying the gig but catching sight of water bottles on stage, it was very warm so I set off on a wander to find a cool drink of water for myself.
Upstairs from the stage area, the place was very calm and still but Irish music seemed to fill the air. Melodic sounds from the gig and also from along the corridor where Dubliners' friend Padraig was playing a tune on his banjo. Pausing for a moment to listen to the tunes, it felt as if the whole of the theatre was full of music and creativity.
Earlier on I'd been attempting 'sonet writing' and the beginnings of my first attempt was propted up on John's open fiddle case. I stopped to re-read my words but, as I lifted the sheet of paper, below in the case was his second fiddle. Weeks back, when the Dubliners had played in Glasgow, I had taken a photo then of this lovely looking fiddle left alone in the dressing room.
Now, so near to performing in this very beautiful place, instead the fiddle was destined to pass through the theatre without even a note being played - awaiting opportunity.
I have never knowingly heard this second fiddle. Maybe in years gone by but since Glasgow I knew it had been up North, to Ireland, to Newcastle and now again in Blackpool, its ability to entertain was sadly lost to the crowd. Like a skilled person out of work, no one would know of its capabilities...
Heck, I was only coming to get a bottle of water but... I felt a pang of sorrow for the fiddle so I tried at least to pull straight the lose string I could see. But no, the fiddle needed to be lifted out properly and tuned. Slack strings can so easily snap when tightened - I didn't want to risk it. It looked lonely and in need of a friend, love and attention. I thought of my own fiddles, in need of new strings and a good clean to bring out the shine of their varnish. And, I wondered why so much time had passed by without me attending to them as I used to. Forgotten fiddles, potential unknown.
In the UK, John had been using his other fiddle and “when not working” his free time seemed full of his hobbies like poetry and wood carving. Myself, recently my creative focus had very much been on photography and writing, passionate to learn new skills. Only recently was I becoming aware of a growing need to return again to playing music.
My poor fiddle, I loved my violin like any other old friend but in our many years together it had become more than a bit ‘battered’ through some of the times and adventures we had shared. For example, the really awful time as a child when it had seemed like it might be a good idea to try and clean off the sticky rosin on the front of my fiddle with nail varnish remover... indeed it cleaned off the rosin and so much more - eg: the top layer of varnish! (oh the tears I shed!!!) Then, some years on, another terrible accident happened when someone visiting my house decided to have a wee shot of my violin without asking and then, distracted by the doorbell being rung, they laid the fiddle on the floor where it was then walked over.
The terrible break to the fiddle's neck saw it confined to its case for many years until I finally found someone with sufficient skills to repair it. The years that passed by before then, I still wanted to play the violin but without the fiddle I loved, I didn't want to play another violin but wanted to wait instead for the first one to be repaired, so that we could both resume our musical journey together. Happy tunes, sad tunes, the knowledge and skill that comes to our musical interpretations as we mature. Instruments reflect those that play them and of course, there are also the times in life when music just fades away and silence descends. Like a Radio Station - to play music you need to be tuned in to the right frequency.
I never learnt to play the fiddle at school, nor in a structured way by reading music and understanding the theory - I just loved the sound the instrument made and FINALLY mum gave in and bought me a fiddle which I learnt to play by ear. Listening to tapes of tunes and then, more often than not, 'performing' them to my mum as she would be in the kitchen, making some meal or doing the washing - busy but ALWAYS with time to be enthusiastic and encouraging of whatever tune I was bursting to share with her!' Yes, I hadn't really 'felt' much like playing since mum passed away and my parents were gone from my life but, seeing that lonely fiddle, I so wanted to put it back together again and hear it played from the heart. "On behalf of Forgotten Fiddles" ;-) at the end of the gig, I spoke to John to point out the lose string. I smiled to hear that he'd already noticed and written a poem. So, I hope he will forgive me for sharing it here and in reply, I follow his Haiku with my own attempt.
To finish, I post another of my favourite poems but one I first discovered many, many years ago. The verse I had on a poster, in my teenage years, placed in my wardrobe, on the door inside. Opened every day, in this position of prominence, it caught my eye on a daily basis. Read many hundreds of times over I've never grown tired of it. At one point in Blackpool, I recalled it again. Hearing John play one of my favourite tunes I went to investigate, following the sound of his music "as surely as if my name had just been called out loud!" Walking in to the dressing room I was amused to see John had opened my case and was playing MY fiddle (a great treat for my fiddle and lovely to hear my violin being played so well)...
John has an amazing style, quite like nothing I have ever heard before. Classically trained he finally moved away from ‘the establishment’ who had too often corrected him for adding his own interpretations to the music (composing as they called it). In Trad it is quite accepted that people will interpret and play tunes differently, that is part of the joy and love for the music but certainly, John’s classical training has enabled him to brilliantly play incredibly complex tunes (Jazz, Ragtime, Traditional, whatever). Yet, his own tunes are often quieter, very beautiful, almost classical at times – his waltzes being some of my most favourite tunes of all time. Yet, not all of them are widely known because (in the great scheme of things) John's priorities have not been to record or publish them all (tho’ I have tried my best to capture them at every opportunity!). Will they ever even be written down and compiled into a book? Who knows but, since I can't really share unpublished work here, instead I will just have to sneak in a Trad tune that I recorded in Blackpool.
I learnt "The Dawn" from John and Barney in our first session in 1991 and it was great to hear it again in 2011. Maybe next time, I may hear it performed on that lonely fiddle, dusted off, free again to sing and entertain. Whatever, on my return to Edinburgh, my violins have been getting lots of love and attention and it’s been great to be playing again! Poetry, music and all such creative things - they nourish the heart and soul. Indeed, I wonder how much more happiness and enjoyment there would if we all took more time to encourage and develop the creative voices within us all. My mum used to say she believed EVERY person had a special talent, something they could really shine at 'if only' time and effort was spent to educate and encourage them to fulfill their potential.
The broadcast recorded by Ronnie Drew and John Sheahan
The programme made in celebration of the band's 40th anniversary
I am fortunate and indebted to the people who have helped me with my hobbies. Accordingly, I hope I always do what I can to pass on whatever skills I have to others who may be interested and to remember that in life, it is not some end destination that we should set our sights on but the importance of enjoying our journey. Playing music for me is not to try and be some incredible fiddle player, nor is my photography to try and make me some greatly respected photographer - that's not the point. Creative pursuits are about doing these things to have FUN and to better enjoy the fullness of the journey through life. Accordingly, I so appreciate all those who have given me their time so that I can learn and develop my creative passions. In my music, photography, writing and painting – I say a BIG thank you to all the friends who help me! And leave you with my favourite poem which says so much on so many levels.
The Touch of the Master's Hand, by Myra Brooks Welch
'Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But he held it up with a smile.
"What am I bidden, good folks," he cried,
"Who will start bidding for me?
A dollar, a dollar" - then "Two!" "Only two?
Two dollars, and who'll make it three?
Three dollars, twice;
Going for three - " But no,
From the room, far back, a gray-haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow;
Then, wiping the dust from the old violin,
And tightening the loose strings,
He played a melody pure and sweet
As sweet as a caroling angel sings.
The music ceased, and the auctioneer,
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said, "What am I bidden for the old violin?"
And he held it up with the bow.
"A thousand! And who'll make it three?
Three thousand, once; three thousand, twice;
And going, and gone!" said he.
The people cheered, but some of them cried,
"We do not quite understand
What changed it's worth?" Swift came the reply;
"The touch of the Master's hand."
And many a man with life out of tune,
And battered and scarred with life,
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd,
Much like the old violin.
A "mess of pottage, a glass of wine;
A game - and he travels on.
He's "going" once and "going" twice,
He's "going" and almost gone."
But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd
Never can quite understand
The worth of a soul, and the change that's wrought
Lastly, I'd like to mention in 2011 the Dubliners were presented by Brian Hand, who I first met in 1991. Well done Brian on your great work as ever on the tours. (And, sorry Dean & Gary O'Brien escaped my 2011 pics but hey, next time).
To find out more information about the Dubliners, tour dates, merchandise etc - please visit Patsy Watchorn's sitehttp://www.patsywatchorn.com/
Misty in Edinburgh today, the city seemed hushed by a low lying blanket of cloud which settled over the Firth of Forth. Hidden from view, as sunset approached night fall the day's light faded without the sun ever breaking through at all.
Foggy days, when our familiar landmarks are hidden from sight, other senses can be heightened if we take time the to explore them. For example, as a child, in unusual weather or at unusual times for a family outing, every now and then we would all set off on an "adventure" - a moonlight picnic after midnight or a "dawn patrol" at first light to watch the sun rise over the sea. Or, the ocassional walk along the seashore in thick fog, waiting for the sun or wind to clear away the clouds but enjoying the disorientated feeling of mist swirling around us. The chilling touch of tiny water droplets on the face, the gentle taste and smell of salty sea air and muffled sounds of seabirds calling out to each other, hidden from sight in the rolling banks of fog moving in from the sea.
My parents wanted to teach me about nature, the environment and how to get around safely in different situations. From her fishing family background my mum's forefathers had certainly earnt their living through the closest understanding and respect for nature. In small boats, with no radio or radar, a fisherman's safety depended on 'reading' the weather with the full respect the changing conditions required. Of course, out with my family, we were never in any danger but all these "adventures" nurtured in me a 24/7 appreciation of the environment. Being outdoors was more than some "sunny day trip" to the beach. This grounding seeing me embrace, as much now as then, the experience of walking alone along a deserted beach at dawn.
Today's mists reminded me of a snowy trip I made some weeks back when Scotland was in the full grip of winter. Then, in a sudden and heavy fall of snow I sheltered in my car, waiting as I watched the falling snowflakes begin to sparkle - caught in rays of silvery light as the sun broke through the clouds. No rays of sun light today but still, a chance to appreciate the sounds of nature painting pictures all around me.
I was brought up to hold a deep appreciation for the beauty of the natural environment: a coloured sky at sunset, the music of bird song, the sounds of the sea breaking on the shore. These things inspire me 365 and 'IF' my photos and comments inspire another then, I am pleased to share with them my small place here in cyberspace, my personal philosophy in life being to: SMILE :-D and pass it on!
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