Swimming while sitting down

They've been experimenting with the occasional "light classical" playlist at the coffeehouse, a bit of a break from the boomer tunes, and nineties nostalgia. I half-listen while I work at "my" table, having stolen it back from another interloper in my bid to become The Coffeehouse Crank -- I have quite a bit of competition for that title. 

 I slowly become aware of the piece that's currently playing:

  

When I was very little, my mother would play classical music, the "programme" type, because she knew I loved stories; although I would add my own stories to the music, if none were available.

A favourite was Saint-Saëns' The Carnival of Animals (1886), for obvious reasons.  My mum would read out the comic verses that accompany each animal, composed by Ogden Nash in the late 1940s:

The swan can swim while sitting down/ For pure conceit he takes the crown.

He looks in the mirror, over and over/ And claims to have never heard of Pavlova.

Being four, my reaction was immediate and indignant:  "Mummy! Stop laughing!  The swan is sad!"

Now, I'm the one who's sad.

The music plays on.  She's everywhere and inextricably within.  Someday, this will be a comfort.