There is a lovely book in this year's nominations called "The Flying Orchestra." I think that it won a Crichton Award, not Book of the Year.
It begins "Some days are so windy that even the angels lose their balance from the top of City Hall." That's when the Flying Orchestra blows into town.
They play symphonies for travellers coming home, concertos for people awake all night thinking, sonatas for sad moments at birthday parties. The Flying Orchestra always play when a baby is born, at dusk and at dawn.
For me, I hear the Flying Orchestra when I gaze at the stars, in the roar of the ocean or the laughter of a friend. The music is there in the warn rays of the sun and in a gentle breeze.
Music is all around.
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