Whenever listen to this TOON, I close my eyes and see pictures of a Babbling Brook.

Like the ones I’d traverse barefoot, rock by rock, in Scotland. The gentle flowing waters (#cold.) The feel of the rocks under a bare foot (slippery?)

The peaty brown tang of the water. The tiny fishy fish and waving underwater plants. The smell of pine and wild flowers. The sound of the birds doing their thing.

Mr Pachelbel must’ve been near a Babbling Brook…or had memories of one…when he wrote this Canon in D Major.

Bliss :o)