There is a private place where I can slip away into another world. It restores my soul and brings me joy. It allows me to collect my thoughts, write, dream and face each day with strength and resilience. Virginia Woolf called it A ROOM OF ONE’S OWN.
I’ve been thinking about angels. A flicker of movement in the corner of my eye. I turn quickly. Nothing. But I know it is an angel. My angel.
I think about the music my angel would listen to. Beethoven’s Moon Light Sonata, a love song without words. Cohen’s Hallelujah, over and over again. The final chorus of angels from Gounod’s Faust.
My angel likes her wine decanted . Wine from a bottle dusted with age and filled with grace. She was there when the grapes were planted. The vineyard at least a hundred years old. But my darlings this angel like most angels is much, much older .
There are over 129,000,000 books in the world. My angel has read all of them. She is re- reading Dickens’s A TALE OF TWO CITIES. She likes Dickens. I know a Christmas Carol would be more appropriate in keeping with the season but this angel considers Dickens important for our present time.
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredibility, it was the season of hope, it was the winter of despair.”
Oh dear! Of all the books in this wide world why is my angel reading this book. I certainly didn’t intend to take my angel back to 1859. A TALE OF TWO CITIES ends badly for many BUT there is a sense of optimism in Dickens’s last words.
“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far, better rest that I go to than I have ever known.”
There is a strong sense of optimism in Dickens’s final words in TALE OF TWO CITIES. We must take heart and take care – of ourselves and our fellow man.
The idea of my wine sipping, music loving angel makes me smile with delight. At night when the skies are black and the stars are sharp as ice I catch a flash of white and the strains of music . . Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelujah. Thank you, Angel.