Debussy's Claire de Lune.  Perfection.  A longing, a paen to love, an awareness of spirit, a prayer.  Gratitude.  One interpretation by guitar with French classical guitarist Roxane ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_RnlOWmZD4 ) I return to again and again.  It is as delicate and as powerful as the orchestral version.  Her interpretation is divine - or divinely inspired. 

Found the music for it, printed it out.  I play the first bar passably well - and then fall apart.  Still, it's the dessert I devour after practice, just to hear those chords. 

Debussy has been my favourite composer since .... a child?  When I first heard  Le Apres-Midi d'un Faun, the opening of eerily beautiful notes, I fell deeply and forever in love.  And Sirenes?  Those last yearning bars of infinite sadness and regret.  I cry.

Raining, falling darts of grey, no wind.  Changed the sheets on the bed, listening to the susurration of the rain in a well of silence.  How often do we, do I, listen to silence?  Yes, I got rid of the telly but the radio is always on, tuned to classical music, yet it's still a buffer, a wall between me and ... reality?  The aloneness (not loneliness) of exisitence?  A wall between me and myself?  Another distraction I give myself permission for as it's 'classical'? 

Big window behind the monitor;  a painting of green and grey, a thousand thousand cuts of rain.  Two inches and counting.  Giant worms will push through the mud seeking air.  When I pick them up to try and find a safe place for them, they go limp.  No slime like a regular earthworm, they are muscle but muscle defeated by gravity without the support of the earth.  Their muscle is in their mouths, devouring their way through  clay, in slow burrowings the diameter of a 20 cent piece.  When I walk this afternoon  a thousand bleached earthworms will litter the streets, washed down the gutters, too small to find refuge, they drown.  Rescued some yesterday, going pale, barely alive but most were beyond help.  Probably the ones I rescued are dead now.  The birds, save for the whew whew wHEW of a currawong   ( https://wildambience.com/wildlife-sounds/pied-currawong/ ) are silent.  Even my birds sit motionless on their perches.  Enduring or meditating?