homecoming take 2

Last night we went to hear Haydn's 'Seven Last Words of Christ' in Avignon. "J'ai soif" gasped the narrator as the rain continued to fall on the papal city......

Of course, sitting in a concert, we drank next to nothing, and on waking this-morning everything was as it should be: Palms of four feet touching; skin cool with the temperature of a thousand springs from wet grass in the cotswolds to the first Himalayan cock crow; shadows of a scalloped roof reflected on chaux; sheets crisp as paper; two lavender blue-grey shutters slightly parted to reveal a slit of Cezanne light, the soft bells of the sheep crossing the mountain and a bird's love-call; a little wet cat nose next to mine and the purr of contentment....

I think the seven last words of Christ, if I understood the french correctly, were indeed:
"Don't drink so much you stupid cow"