Too right, Uncle Al.
Now with more pleasant temperatures and long evenings, after a long day looking 'down-in-the-mouth' at The Face I take a walk down to our little private garden lake where we now have two comfy thrones either side of the boat ramp. There I can sit and survey our little nature reserve filled with birdsong, just now including the cuckoo and during my stay more than likely I'll be favoured with a fly-past by our resident electric-blue kingfisher, by far the prettiest of our native birds.
Rs Tranquility by the lake.JPG
The other extremely therapeutic relaxant for me is my trusty ol' Bechstein, which just recently has benefited from the magic administrations of my piano tuner/technician, so my caressing fingers are rewarded with a concert hall quality sound which nowadays I find increasingly difficult to produce. But never mind, Trying is half the battle and it's not a battle, it's pure pleasure. With the Drawing Room French doors open, our 10 year-old granddaughter recorded a bit of Bechstien from out in the garden and played it back to me. She's now into producing short amusing 'family' films and she included this recording as background. Not at all bad, I'm happy to say.
Kilted joy at the piano.jpeg
Tom
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