Blossom and Bells

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cherry blossom

Returning from our blossom walk, I set a table in the vines looking out towards the white orchard, the trees like fluffy wedding dresses on golden puddles of spring flowers. The village bell sounded nine in the distance.

I laid out my working tools: A score of a Haydn quartet, a pencil, and some Badois.

Suddenly I realised there was sobbing emerging from the kitchen, and when I re-entered I saw that this article about another kind of bell had had quite an effect on Julian.

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7 Comments

Isn't this an amazing story? We wish we had been at the metro stop that morning!

To our shame, Americans make a living. We don't choose to have a life. Unless, like some of us, we wake up and choose joie de vivre before it's too late.

People are touched by different things. Many are not moved by the same music as others, or writing, or visual beauty - but they might be by the helping hand of a neighbour, or the love of a friend. The joys of your local red may be lost on a migraine-sufferer, who nevertheless may have the freshness of palate to enjoy the subtlety of a truffle omelette.I'd love to know whether those people scurrying past Joshua Bell might have stopped for something else ...

I wondered what could make an Englishman cry. Now I understand.

"$32 and change"i remember, years ago, on my way out west, my (then) boyfriend and i stopped over in new orleans and as we paid the meter a man greeted us, his voice swirled inside a plastic drum as he banged out the beats--he sang about my curly hair and smiling eyes, then thanked us and walked away, never asking for a cent. we stood there, silenced. over a block away we chased him down handing over the only cash we had, a mere five bucks. he refused, but we insisted. we could have never paid him enough, that performance carried us across texas, and much, much farther.

Thank you for this link, Ruth. It was very interesting and more than a little sad.

I heard a snippet of the Bell story on the news...so glad I got to read it in its entirety. This is why I love to travel to Europe...to remind me to live life and to enjoy the little moments. Most of us rush too much in America. I think I will add the Post article to my favorites and read it next time I need a reminder of the good life. Thanks!

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