Yesterday I heard Britten’s Cello Suite no.3 in the freezing cold of St Edmunds Church in Southwold. The single cello notes sang out, above a low, plucked string, and outside the wind suddenly moved through the trees – a duet against a beat of time passing.
Ah, the soughing of the wind – I had forgotten the word. The music and the wind find one’s heart, I think, and touch the loneliness. But it is temptation from a ghost, you ache, but you can’t reach out and touch.
Thank you Sasho, it was unforgettable.