Life in us yet...

The long-suffering reader of these blethers will know that I've had a long association (since 1968) with the Cathedral of The Isles on Cumbrae, and that many things in my life, such as that association, came about because of singing. Today turned out to be one of these days when time seems to telescope despite all the markers of over half a century having passed since we first visited Cumbrae from Glasgow and formed a quartet with our friend Alastair who has lived there on and off since he, along with Himself, graduated from Glasgow Uni. Today we went to the Cathedral as we so often have, to rehears with our quartet, The St Maura Singers, who celebrated our fiftieth anniversary the year before Covid arrived. Despite the vagaries of health and age, for three of us at least, we found ourselves able to sing again, and the sense of time collapsing took over. 

It's late and I'm exhausted in a triumphant sort of way, but I want to try to explain that last statement by saying that though three of us first met to sing while we were still at University, the soprano joined us when she was still at school and I had two young children. Now she's reaching retirement age and the younger of my children is 46 - and that brought it home. Despite all the familiarity of place and occupation, it's been a long, long time.

Having resorted once more to the codeine that is the only remedy for that cough that bedevilled me yesterday, I slept wonderfully well and got up feeling I could cope. We met the organist and the soprano on the Cumbrae ferry and were picked up at the other side by the tenor; once in the cathedral we worked hard on the accompanied music (the Stanford I'd been learning) and broke only when hunger took over. Lunch was rather marvellous in a quirky pop-up bakery in Millport, with a single wooden bench down the middle, like a science lab, with stools down either side, where we perched in a row and ate interesting food - hummus, tabbouleh, warm pitta breads, fresh dates - and chatted to the total strangers on the other side of the table. "So are you musicians?" asked one - and it felt good just to say a simple "yes". 

We sang again all afternoon, first in the library (to let the organist practise his stuff) and then in the cathedral - 16th century music this time, and right up my alley. And then back to Largs, and the walk of over half a mile back to the car. We may be old, but we're not dead yet - an important reminder after a pretty moany week.

So, for the record: I may be knackered tonight, but I feel good. 

Collage of the cathedral and college. No interiors - I was too busy!

St Maura Singers