18 degrees, a chilled glass of Williams Profanity Stout at 7%; the last rays of an autumnal sunset. The Adagietto from Mahler’s 5th for company. Could this day (cue Chandler voice) GET any better?

The fourth movement ebbs and flows, the sun now a fiery ball wandering it’s way down through the Oak branches on its way towards the hills of the Forest of Dean and the other side of the world. Sky reddening as the sun drops beneath the cloud deck and just a minute of music now remaining – could this all have been choreographed.

The base of the disk, clipped by the hills and moving into the 5th and final movement (Rondo Finale) with gusto. The whole sky changing colour, arrows of birds flying down the Severn for home and only half of the sun left peeking over the hills. The symphony builds to its own crescendo as the last sliver of our sun vanishes … until tomorrow then …