Music in the morning...

This morning I stood still and watched a woman play the piano in the depths of a cemetery. She was not conscious of any other, her eyes were closed, her fingers tracing their path across the black and white keys, finding familiar friends. The rush hour pedestrians streamed past, offering cursory glances at her, some wondering what was happening, others not caring as they pursued their deadlines and tried to avoid lateness and coffee spills.

She remained oblivious. I remained watching. It was the third day in a row that I had witnessed her. Shy, petite, busy. The notes span around the space, reverberating, disappearing, rising, falling. It seemed so incongruous yet perfect. Images of long dead souls listening to the soft melodies were conjured in my mind. I stood beside the grave of William Blake and heard his poetry brought to simple, elegant life. I imagined the pianist's life away from this moment. Was she a secret virtuoso robbed of her joy for so many years? Had she been longing for the moment to reintroduce herself to an old friend in a romantic moment amongst the sun-streaked gravestones?

So many quiet thoughts whispered to me as she finished, gently closed the lid and joined the throng heading towards non-descript offices. It was a moment of repose and I wish I had said thank you. But I simply gathered my thoughts and continued on my way. Thankful for a moment of peace in a busy world. The discovery of a pianist in a cemetery was welcome. Serendipity can truly bring a smile to a morning...