"Bach" in Time

I'm sitting here waiting for my cheesy garlic bread to finish baking in the oven and listening to Bach's 4th cello suite. Baroque music always makes my mind drift. I start to envision scenes from 'Tous les Matins du Monde' as they both meld with and phase in and out of reality:

The room is swimming in the soft warmth of candlelight. Shadows run across the clay walls as the lit tallow makes its way to the end of the room, faithfully lighting the way ahead while drowning all else in dark solace. The sound of gentle footsteps as they retreat into the hushed night lingers just above the wooden floorboards.

The smells of the daily bread drift in the moist air, heavy and sweet, like roasted seeds. The hearth-fires have dimmed, leaving cold ashes in the pit. The flame shines off the knives that rest on the cutting slab. The love that is imparted into the food is reflected back. The light leaves. The kettle hanging above the pit begins to gray and darken; this room, too, is left in quiet as the beacon makes its way forward.