3 weeks into school - on the way back to keble college from oxford high street i have to cut across the cobblestoned catte street. on the left looms the radcliffe camera, a magnificent georgian neo-classical building with blue-grey dome and yellow limestone; on the right the forbidding walls and gate of all souls' college, (perhaps the very epitome of ivory towered academia that oxford supposedly symbolises) an academic community of scholars with no students.

the sky was, of course, darkening early, because at this time of the year the axial tilt of the earth causes the northern hemisphere to experience fewer hours of sunlight a day than the southern; and the lighted windows of the libraries were standing out in stark contrast.

and somehow, magically, floating on the chill of the biting wind, comes the warm sound of a viola, the familiar tune of bach's allemande from his suite in g major for unaccompanied cello. the welcoming expansive chords of a stately dance form draw my feet half consciously to where the busker was standing.

she was a grey haired woman, and she flashed me a smile as she hit the highest note of the movement.

(this felt like my first welcome to the cold city of oxford, really, since i arrived.)

i smiled back and walked home, fingering the notes on an imaginary fingerboard resting on my palm.