Swan Field

Some of the most magnificent scenery lies between the Shrewsbury Hills and Hereford, which can be watched from the window of the train that travels from Holyhead to Abergavenny.  The hills are mounds, that ramble with more sky above than before, and it’s a stunning stretch of countryside.  Tudor houses, lakes and forests are the backdrop for the views, and with a cloudless blue sky above, there’s nearly nothing as beautiful.

After unseasonably heavy rain of late, some of the fields are water-logged, which seems so incongruous from the view from the train. One field, that might have previously been used for food for cows and sheep, or growing crops, had ducks and a single swan on it.  The animals seemed so at ease, floating around on a field of water as if this was exactly what they should be doing.  All water covers ground, that was something else a long time ago.

I watched the swan and ducks last week, returning from a trip to Wales, and it was interesting to me, that no one else looked out of the window.  All the other passengers in our carriage were engrossed in their own screens, including one woman who was talking to her friend for a straight 90 minutes.  They missed the floating ducks and swan, and didn’t notice the rambling hills.

When I got home to Dublin, I had a great surprise. 

One of my neighbours in the building has bought a piano! 

Sadly, I didn’t see them bring it into the building, which was a shame because I would have enjoyed that.  I have neighbours above, below, and either side of me, and just this week I discovered that there are also neighbours behind me.  Until now, I thought that the kitchen wall, where the cooker, fridge and microwave live, backed onto the stairwell and the lift area.  This is incorrect.  It backs onto number 32, and their new piano.

I lurked in the hallway for a few days, trying to discover where my flat ended and the neighbours began.  I felt my way along the hallway floor, but outside the apartment, to try and find out where it ended.  For seven years, I have been completely mistaken about the shape, size and edge of my home, and it’s mildly disorientating to discover the truth. 

My flat is not where I thought it would be.

Luckily, the pianist is very good.  I’m enjoying Practice Hour as much as anyone. I get a cup of Earl Grey with milk, and a modest afternoon snack, and I listen to the scales going up and down.  The pianist starts with a series of short exercises, then leads up to longer sections, and finishes with the fuller piece of music.  It’s delightful, and when it’s over I clap, and then go back to my business.

Non-musical people always say things like “I’d love to play the piano” without at all realising how much time and practice goes into such a skill.  The piano player next door sounds terrific, yet they still practice every day from 4.00pm – 5.00pm, and probably will do forever.  It’s like going for a run, or a swim or a haircut.  It never ends; it just keeps on going on.

The gentle piano music has been a wonderful antidote to the darker nights, which have surprised me yet again this year.  Every year, just after Halloween, we are amazed that the nights get so dark, and so early.

Every year.

“I can’t believe how dark the nights are, and so early!” I say to people on Whatsapp.

They agree, they can’t believe it either!

And on we go.

But going back to the ducks, and the swan on the field of water somewhere near Shrewsbury.

I wish I could be as carefree as they. 

I wish I could float around and be calm, and enjoy it, and not worry about the pigs and the sheep. I wish I could say “quack,” or whatever it is that swans say, and delight in all my days.