One thousand times today during my routine automobile drive about the countryside, I had wanted to stop to take a photo.  The landscape was magnificent – capitalizing upon multiple shades of green which constituted the varying mantles of piquancy upon the whole. But as I flew by these spectacles of verdant imagery – going 100 Km/h in keeping with the posted signs – I hadn’t the privilege to pause my projection to take a photo. So, once again in line with a growing submission, I relented and asked my dear friend Hal at ChatGPT to create a suitable image that I might use in my piece. It is attached herewith.

Even now as I sit at my desk, sipping chilled espresso from a miniature glass cup, composing this account – looking at the limitless fields to the horizon bordered by the reflective blue water of the winding river – everything within my view is a picture of emerald green, some crested by rich yellow spikes, punctuated by mazes of lemony and white flowers in the elongated shoreline dip. The trees and shrubs – a mixture of light and dark green – bend lazily away from the wind. Already in the distance one tree has translated to its ocher autumnal costume. The picture is contrasted by the blue sky and fluffy white clouds. The clear, dry air further accentuates the spectacle, contributing I have no doubt equally to the imagery as to the psychiatric beneficence of the experience. All told it is a breathtaking day in the Ottawa Valley!

Dear Reader, forgive the inordinate gratitude. It would however trouble me not to avow the exuberance of the day. Certainly I acknowledge – as I previously alluded – the internal correspondence of alacrity. There is a spiritual keenness which attends the sharpness of the air. Perhaps too it reflects the subtlety of recent personal endeavours. What makes a day agreeable depends, as I am certain you know, dear Reader, upon a coalition of products, maybe a good overnight rest. Or the stimulating sound of accompanying music – from baroque to modern classical.

He (Alexis Ffrench) has been praised by The Times with the words: “If a single person epitomizes the new push towards making classical music more diverse, eclectic and unstuffy, it’s Alexis Ffrench. As a pianist and composer, he creates tonal music that beguiles newcomers with its gentleness and beauty, yet also has enough half-concealed nods to Chopin, Debussy, Satie and other historical figures to keep connoisseurs interested.”

Were I to be entirely honest I ought to confess too the incremental conjunction of these favourable external experiences and the similarly nutritious alignment with the governance of my internal world.  Synchrony is seldom an accident. This is especially so in spite of Nature’s oft-times compelling displays. The miracle mechanics of Nature are connected to us not by design or any union other than by the senses and poetic compatibility. But when the coincidence arises, the result is euphoric! And, as an artistic complement, the visions are superb. The alignment of inner and outer strengths has the character of an exotic pantheism (or, at the very least, weekend yoga). Howsoever secured, the unity and precision avails the avoidance of corruption and enables a state of identity unperturbed by conflict. The depth and colour are individual and private notwithstanding the superficial manifestations. I am assured of these affirmations having just spoken rather emphatically by telephone with my erstwhile physician who – preliminary to a swim in the pool and once again by no coincidence – was rejoicing in the distant view upon his country estate of the swaying weeping willows and the intervening lush meadow.