REQUIEM for a FLY
My favourite Requiems are those of Mozart and Vivaldi which we watched on Classic Intermezzo on Spanish TV and luckily repeated at fairly regular intervals together with the works of Handel and other ancient tunes played on appropriate old and I have to say beautiful instruments, others of our loves, with the most talented of soloists both instrumental and vocal.
But as I have posted before now the opposite to favourites are the nasty winged beasties that bring with them bites, stings and diseases. No doubt there is a purpose in their existence which I have to admit escapes me.
As far as the house was concerned we had a secret weapon which in its electronic beauty confused their navigation and they could not wait to get out to fresh air once again so, we made sure to leave a door or window open which was no problem in sunny Spain so that they could get away, but I doubt we could do the same in our beloved England all year round. Eh?
There were of course those stalwart sky divers who persisted in staying around and in the morning we would have our daily requiem of collection of their dead bodies to dispose of before opening the doors and windows again. Recalls of the plague in London as the carts trundled the streets with the call, ‘bring out your dead, bring out your dead!’ echoing down the dark and dismal alleyways.
Throughout the year we were blest with the members of the arachnid population in helping, mainly unseen, to keep the fly, mosquito and fruit fly fraternity down which only came to light in the autumn when their amazing webs would become highlighted in the morning dew strung across the branches of the olive and almond trees.
I say unseen because they did keep themselves to themselves only appearing, drowned in the salty swimming pool, some quite frightening in their shape and size and I doubt very much if they would come anywhere near a requiem as they liquidised and gorged on the prey caught in their sticky nets draped in dew, though perhaps they did sing a song of succulent delight too soft for us to appreciate!
As I say there is many a requiem we do appreciate and have to reflect: where would we be without all those who pass on to other places due to our intolerance, dislike or sheer pain in their existence when they come too close for comfort!
We are at the end of March and have to wait and see how different in our beloved England are the flying fiends. Looking forward so much to our first spring on our return to Albion.
Dear fly, midge or mosquito no doubt there is a hidden purpose in your existence
And although I bash out a tune or two, if I was of a composite turn of consciousness I would be able to produce a piece for others of your kind to buzz along to and regret a passing as we do of our kind, but sadly not. Not that you would appreciate my meanderings over the ivories, however, I do forgive the pain you bring to us humans in our ignorance of the grand plan of creation.
I have a feeling that unlike us you have no regret and carry on in your instinctive way unlike our wailing wakes and wonderings why as perhaps we should, meeting every challenge for what it undoubtedly and most certainly is …
Merely a set up for the experience of how we cope with each and every event for the benefit of the experience of the Soul, requiem or not which after all is just a supersonic superstition. Is it not?
With Love, Hanukah & the Angel.