A City and Its Thoughts

Here is a glimpse into my mental musings of late. To my left on the coffee table sits the sheet music for "Four Hymns for Tenor and Viola" written by Ralph Vaughn Willams. My husband and I are working on the last two hymns for an upcoming concert. Outside the window to my right I can hear the intermittent sounds of a tram or a car passing by. At this hour on a Sunday evening most people are at home relaxing and preparing for the week ahead. The bells at the Graz Herz Jesu Church ring every weekday evening at 7:00, signaling the end of the workday. On Sunday mornings the bells toll at 9:15, just in time to remind you to start making your way to church. Sundays in Graz are quiet; with all of the businesses closed save cafes, restaurants, and one Spar supermarket at the Hauptbahnhof. Klimpt, my faithful viola, reclines on the love seat to my right, and sounds of my husband cooking drift down the hallway from the kitchen to my left. The mood in here is warm and peaceful, now that we replaced the light bulbs in our living room lamp. Soft golden beams of light reflect off of the zigzag hardwood floor and the dark wooden cabinets that grace the wall opposite where I sit. All is right in the world. Even the labored sound of our struggling computer fan somehow seems to fit.

Now that our tram passes have expired and we have not replaced them, I have been forced to walk the 30 minutes to the conservatory for viola lessons with my professor. The walk allows me to enjoy the heart of the city as it leads me meandering through Stadtpark, and then under the archway leading to the city's only official cathedral. The street turns to cobblestones as it winds down through Hauptplatz with its food vendors and street musicians; sometimes playing an accordian or a guitar, and on occasion a violin. As the street crosses the river there is a lovely view of Schlossberg high up and to the right. I will never tire of hearing the sound the river makes as it rushes beneath the bridge and passes by the old buildings of Graz on its way to the Slovenian border. Wandering through the city on foot allows for a pace slow enough to chew on the food for thought that lies in its walls and its people. Life is much slower here, and there is opportunity for living a simple life; one where you can walk or ride a bicycle to work through cobbled alleyways, past beautiful churches, and soak in the artistry of it all along the way. There is an attitude that makes time feel like it is moving so slowly somehow; like I have all the time in the world. I know that having a sense of urgency can be important, and not taking life for granted is essential, but taking time to soak it all in each and every day and to let things unfold at their natural pace, is a lesson well worth the time spent learning it.