It is surprising that in a place such as this, so far removed from my
home across the sea and nearly two centuries.
At yet today, I saw a children's
book propped in a store window.
And I was reminded that when I was young, my mother used to sing to me what she remembered of an opera called
Médée, she said she'd seen it when she was much younger, years before meeting my father -- though it had stuck with her in ways that, as she said, many brighter and better had not.
...But it seems perhaps,
perhaps my mother had more of an ear than she thought, as it seems Cherubini's
Medea has survived, and survived, and survived.