Few sentences have been quoted more often than the aphorism: “Justice must not only be done, but must also be seen to be done”. This dictum was laid down by Lord Hewart, the then Lord Chief Justice of England in the case of Rex v. Sussex Justices, [1924] 1 KB 256. This landmark ruling has been the basis of several decisions in administrative and other branches of law where even the appearance of something improper has been a ground to set aside an order of a court, tribunal or quasi-judicial authority

Lord Hewart was a remarkable English judge. He was born in not very affluent circumstances and had to initially work as a journalist before he joined the Bar in 1902, at the age of 32. But his rise in the profession was meteoric and he became King’s Counsel in just ten years (1912). Within the next four years became Solicitor General (1916) and Attorney General three years later. He was appointed as the Lord Chief Justice in 1922 and continued in office for 18 years. He resigned in October, 1940.

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Listening to the news is not what I would normally recommend as a good choice. Certainly it is informative; and, it is an important additive to other social communications.  But to dignify the shadowing as a handpicked decision with the imperative and paramountcy implied by the word choice I would not call a life-changing pursuit. Yet the recent insight on CNN into the senate examination of a presidential nominee to the Supreme Court of the United States has by coincidence critically drawn my attention to this fundamental hallmark of life – choice.

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In 1857, the SS Central America, also known as the “ship of gold”, sank off the coast of the US state of South Carolina, along with some new-found riches from the California Gold Rush.

It was a hurricane that sealed the fate for 425 people returning to the US east coast.

They went down with an estimated 21 tonnes of gold coins and nuggets from prospectors who had struck it rich on the west coast, but some passengers were also carrying something of more personal value – photographs.

Salvaged from the ship’s wreckage in 2014 were daguerreotypes, the first successful commercial form of photography – a one-off picture held on a metal plate – and ambrotypes, a type of glass plate photography.

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When at length and after irresolution I mustered the vigour to elevate myself from the chaise longue and conducted a mixture of waddle and shaky perambulation to the pool, clinging to the railing of the steps then submerging with relief into the cool water, I hadn’t anticipated meeting Mike Hyndman upon surfacing.  He was headed in my direction in the manner of a swimmer of lengths. We both paused in the narrow of the pool and shared the usual social niceties about the weather and the wind. Then he mentioned Montreal and I returned the volley with Ottawa.  We were off!

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Around midnight last night I was awoken by boisterous voices from the balcony of a nearby apartment. Initially I tolerated the late night chatter because it was Friday night and historically I am no one to complain about vacation excesses or uninhited clamour. Though I had retired to bed hours before it nonetheless disturbed me to have to endure their high spirits as deep into the night as two o’clock the following morning. Finally they exhasuted themselves and withdrew from their starry canopy. I slept deeply until 7:00 am this morning.

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The first time I drank a cup of cappuccino was one morning on the Italian riviera. I was about 17 years old. My sister and I were traveling with our parents on a summer excursion from Stockholm, Sweden where they resided at the time.  At the bright and airy bar adjacent the lobby in the hotel where we stayed the smartly outfitted steward served us our morning starter before we headed to the beach. The cubes of brown sugar completed the initiation.

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Breakfast today – a grey day with heavy rainfall – was at Lowcountry Produce Market and Café on nearby Lighthouse Road a short distance from our apartment at Cutter Court and Lighthouse Lane. We drove silently in the rain along the shaded wilting avenue, splashing through shiny black roadside puddles.

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It was shortly before seven o’clock this morning when I awoke.  One of the prescription drugs I took at 2:00 am had apparently worked its augured soporific effect. I wasn’t overly drowsy though.  Because I had retired not long after nine o’clock last evening I didn’t want to spoil the uncommonly restful night by overdoing it. Besides if I linger too long in bed it only cements my arthritic ribs which then oblige annoying effort to regain something resembling mobility. As it was I alternately bended and stretched through my ritual morning ablutions which include swiping clean my iPhone to remove fingerprints. And soaping and brushing my pinky ring to maintain its brilliance (though its days are waning: I have arranged a meeting with my jeweller soon after our return to Canada). Last night before going to bed I cleaned the lenses of the spectacles I intended to wear this morning.  My new “granny glasses” had already been cleaned yesterday afternoon when I removed them upon feeling the irritation of the cable temples to which I have not yet fully adjusted; otherwise I approve of them even with the limited graduated prescription (the consequence of small lenses).

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Communicating in the electronic age is fascinating.  And for an old fogey such as I it is often a test as well as an enlightenment.  I preserve my quietude by aligning with what I believe – and hope – are not catastrophic alterations to my existing context. One mustn’t disturb the drying canvass. It is reminiscent of how I felt when translating to computers from fill-in-the-blanks printed precedents in my law practice.  I recall thinking at the time that there was no need (or, by implication, any value) having to go to all the trouble and expense of buying a computer and learning how to do that!  Ha!  That didn’t last long!  Thereafter I was buying new updated models of computers yearly or more frequently as the industry commensurately propelled its endless improvements.  In addition I subscribed to technological software advancement on the market for the law profession.  Unknowingly I was among the first to conform to the new business model. Lawyers can be so intractable!  It proved to be an ineffable leap from memory typewriters and fax machines to computers and email.  And with what unprecedented speed it unfolded! Before long I was burning years of handwritten diaries, casting aside leather-bound binders of typewritten pages and opting instead for the cleanliness, convenience, presentation and accuracy of computers both at home and at the office.

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What it is that calls forth an ideal day such as today I cannot explain!  Perhaps it is merely the favourable complement to the tarsome day that preceded it.  Per chance, last night’s better sleep. I hadn’t a fever yesterday but I couldn’t then escape the looming misery of old age. Until this morning that is. Whatever it is, everything was elevated today. From the moment of awakening at 7:00 am (though in truth I lingered beneath the covers for 15 minutes or so). Let us say – grâce à my erstwhile physician – the turmeric, magnesium and vitamin D3 kicked in! It’s all a mystery! I lingered over breakfast at my makeshift study table far longer than I had expected. It was shortly after noon, after my Tylenol Extra Strength dose, that I pushed off to the bicycle rack, having first doffed my sweater and undershirt, leaving only the Polo and cotton shorts, woollen socks and boat shoes.  Ready for a ride on the beach!

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