Moon Over Saturday

Romeo: Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear,
That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops - 

Juliet: O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,
That monthly changes in her circled orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.


Juliet was a very smart young woman... up to a point. But I cut her some slack; she was only 14.

On Saturday morning I rose early to walk. It feels so good to be in shorts again, to feel the morning breezes on my legs and the crisp spring air. By the end of the day, I looked back on my walk and it seemed an age away. Saturday was that busy. Appointments and shopping were followed by an excellent evening, in which the Canadian Opera Company's double bill of A Florentine Tragedy and Gianni Schicchi were a wonderful pairing; the former by Zemlinsky, rife with Art Deco styling in the set, and late Romantic ravishment in the music, and a stellar cast, of whom Alan Held was the star... he was the star also of the Puccini, and the whole thing so well thought out and directed by Catherine Malfitano, that all memories of A Room with a View (not my favourite movie) were eradicated. A relief. And then, with friend and parents, we repaired to my roof to freeze over pizza and wine, and admire the supermoon. No meteors, apparently we were too early in the night for that, but the moon was splendid and I was reminded of Kaos (1984), by the Taviani brothers, and the "Mal di Luna" segment of the five Pirandello stories they told in that excellent film. Does anyone reading this know that film?

I often think the moon has me in its thrall.