Sunday Music, Monday Edition

It’s hot, and will stay hot at over 30° C for the coming days, as it was over the last days. Thankfully the nights still do become cooler, it is not full summer yet. But if this is an omen, then we’ll see a really hot few months ahead. Something definitely changed over the last years. Nowadays varieties of wine can be grown here in Franconia that would have been impossible to cultivate fifteen or twenty years ago, namely different Burgundys and Merlot. Riesling on the other hand becomes difficult, the grapes are too delicate simply because their skin is too thin. Sylvaner is more robust, thankfully it is in no danger. The wine growers are presently working full power because the vines are too full, there is a danger of dew imminent if the grapes are not aired enough. Water control, water management, and irrigation are the important future tasks. As Hunter Stockton Thompson once remarked, drugs should come in the best available quality.
This Sunday Music on a Monday is a nocturne (number 183) composed by Mikalojus Konstantinas ČIURLIONIS (Ger., Eng.) (1875-1911), in the piano version performed by Aleksandra JUOZAPÈNAITÈ-EESMAA (Et., about). If you are interested and a bit curious, listen to a version performed by Atlieka Lina ŽILINSKAITÈ (about whom I sadly could not find more information) on an instrument I do not know here.
I hope you enjoy the music, and find it not too melancholic. May the week be good to all of us. And the vine.

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Waiting

I stood on the balcony and looked East. There were some remarkably strong vertical flashes. Now we do not have strong winds and rain like roughly an hour before. I opened all windows when the wind became stronger, and had all the warm & stuffy air blown out. It was a very hot day, we had them in a row, and the thunderstorm was building up since midday. But now the temperature is down, still warm, and thankfully it is not sauna-like. The birds in my vicinity are busily talking to themselves, it all is green, no more blossoms.
I wonder about the bees. Usually I had to bring out two or three bees a day. They came in through the balcony’s door, looked around and decided to leave. And of course they bumped against the window. So I either opened a part of said window and they went out, or I put a glass over them, then put a piece of paper between the glass and the window pane (and the insect, obviously), and finally released them via the balcony door.
Also the big  bumbles did not show up this year. Usually they rested on my balcony, loaded with thick yellow stuff they gathered in the blossoms. They crawled around a bit, relaxed, jumped & carried on. Not this year. No Brummel. Not a single one. (I went to the supermarket, and saw cherries sold – for a tremendous price I think, twelve Euro a kilogram : This year all blossomed too fast, too short.)
The lime trees, Linden, trees I like very much, are  blossoming. Usually such a tree would hum and buzzle from bees, bumble bees and I do not know who else would crawl around in the scented paradise. But there is nothing this year, the trees stand quiet. No real scent too.
While I wrote this the sky turned to a kind of battleship grey, thunder is quietly grumbling along, in the distance (East-East-South I’d guess, as seen from my desk through the large window) flashes are seen.
When I just went into the kitchen I needed artificial light to find them damn pills I have to use, the weather came around now. I only hope there will come some abundant rain, the thunder is a bit louder, the distance slowly fades into grey.
The rain came gently. But intensified. I hear drops falling on the window’s sill, but the rain is not blown against the panes. It rushes. Only blackbirds are still conversing, but I guess they have told each other all the gossip now. Even within the house it is quiet, no one feels the need to bore a hole, or to do something else that would indicate a living soul. Humans are a noisy bunch after all.
It were some strange days, filled with contrasts. I feel tired, and I have a lot to think through.
Love, peace, and understanding, as they said. Still counts. In the end there’s nothing left except love.
If you like, listen to some romantic guitar music, a Capricho Árabe by Francisco TÁRREGA performed by David RUSSELL, here.

Sunday Music

Nothing happened. I slept, sneezed, and slept again, and the week is over. Mago van Winkle ? Shouldn’t have went into the Ephesus Grill, a real speluncula …
I did nothing spectacular, I just read. And since I have finished the biography of LESSING (the one I have mentioned here), the phrase “marching to a different drum” or “marching to his own drum” does reverberate in my head.
So let’s listen to drums this Sunday.
It is a performance of members of the group KODŌ (Ger., Eng.), they play taiko drums (Ger., Eng.). I hope you enjoy the music.
About LESSING I’ll write sometime this week. Now let’s bang on :

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Sunday Music

Monday, but it sure feels like Sunday, even when the Pfingstmontag is only a relic of the older pentecost week. Nothing spectacular happened, no storm wind went through my flat, no fiery tongues. I received a visitor yesterday, but sadly my guest had to leave again today. So it’s a tad silent around here.
Quiet enough to listen to the wonderful guitar work of Mr Russell MALONE (Ger., Eng.) in his version of the Bee Gees’ How Deep Is Your Love ? 
I hope you enjoy the music, may the time coming be easy, friendly, happy even …

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