We’re two years into the collapse of the Western financial system, one year after the fall of Lehman Brothers, and still, when you listen to panels of clever people examining what has happened and what is likely to happen, there’s no clear picture of the way forward. The optimist in me believes that at some point in the future we’ll look back on it all and be able to say that it all happened for the best. The pessimist wonders if I’ll live long enough to see it.
I think Bette Davis has the best advice for us all:
In the evening a nightingale comes visiting, filling the dusk with liquid magic. As balance, the midges have started up, too, so you have to risk a few bites in return for the music. I risk it. A life without nightingales in it would be a sad thing and not even the midges will take that away from me.
He’s been a regular visitor since the spring; sadly, he’ll quieten down now that the leaves are falling. Never entirely quiet, though, and just when you think he’s disappeared up he’ll pop again.
That’s worth a hey-ho if anything is.
~~+~~
in the evening
a nightingale
sings
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