Listen here
Before choir practice, it's a fizzy room - a cacophony of colour.
Coats flung over chairs, flasks clinking down, music folders everywhere. Catching up, nattering, laughter rising. Someone rushes in, apologising.
A brand‑new face hovers at the door, wondering where do I fit in?
Chaos starts to settle - colours balance in motion. Shy meets the bold. Grief beside joy. Sleepless slouches next to the jolly jumping‑bean. Ready for action, ready for tunes.
There’s work to be done learning the parts we’ll play.
Homemade biscuits from the altos - a spare pack of pencils spilled by a tenor and the basses humming the soprano line with generous gusto galore.
A shared breath. Raising the bar. Is everyone in the right place? Moments and music turning, sounding, colours catching the light.
Each voice counts - bold, tentative, wobbly. Minds, hearts, souls - youthful, yearning, seasoned with years of wisdom. There’ll be harmony tonight.
And if only we could just sing for today - for life outside will soon repaint our colours, our place, our songs - and none of us will arrive the same next time we meet.
But for this precious while, harmony abounds - vibrant shades rediscovered within the painted backlines and the dots of our score.
A cradle of choir to relive our youth, hold the grieving, the celebrating, the exhausted, the hopeful - all that blended, muddled, marvellous music in the air - affirming we belong.
Our stories are told - in the showing up, the first breath, the colour added to the palette and in our different shades - ours alone to give.
And the homework for next time - bring your truest colours to choir - they always shine brighter when we sing, love and live.