May 18

I recall staying up late one night in high school with one of my best friends (don’t all high schoolers stay up late though?) to listen to the Classical FM radio. She texted me in a hurry, as one does under the deep warm blanket of night, and told me to turn on the radio, because Holst’s Jupiter was playing. We sat in relative silence, listening to the piece and each other breathe on the phone – I on the coarse braided mat by my backyard door, her on her bed. We jokingly said we would want to walk down the aisle to it.

I am away today, having exchanged the stage for an altar. There is a harp, but for once I am glad of the opportunity to listen and not play. Still, I curl up with my Debussy that night on the hotel bed, after wedding cake and famous, though overly sweet, pistachio ice cream, breathing softly as the shower runs next door.

listen: Gustav Holst, Jupiter from the Planets Suite
read: Molly Peacock, Altruism