Serendipity We all owe Horace Walpole a debt of gratitude, for it was he who invented the word Serendipity. It's a lovely word, and a lovely feeling: making happy and unexpected discoveries by accident. I was in Plymouth in the south of England a few years ago, and needed to visit a laundrette. So I found one and left my smalls in the care of the nice lady in charge. I headed for the Art Gallery which was nearby to punch in a few hours and to have lunch. In the deserted entrance hall I heard singing, from far away, and a piano, so I followed my ear, climbed stairs, down corridors, then found the room that the lovely voice was coming from. When the song finished I sneaked in, and found a lunchtime concert in progress. A mezzo soprano, Suzanne Manuell, sang a range of pieces from Grieg to Bizet. She sang Let's Do It, Let's fall in Love by Cole Porter, a piece by Flanders and Swann, and a song I have never heard before but would love to hear again called Before I Gaze at you Again. It was unalloyed pleasure, she had magic in her voice, and we, the audience left the Gallery uplifted and better able to face the world. I collected my laundry, neatly folded, and thought that life was good. The next day I visited a church, St.Andrews, left a roofless shell by the Luftwaffe, but now carefully restored to splendid effect. I had been walking all morning, so I sat down in a pew for a rest, and picked up the Book of Common Prayer which was lying on the seat. In it was the history of the Reformation. I started to read. An hour later I was still there, still reading this history of Europe, fascinated. This was all new to me, I had never known why a reformation was needed, why Protestantism had started, what they had objected to in the old church, which parts of the old religion they had abandoned and why, how they prepared for communion. At last, my stomach told me that lunch was overdue, so I left the fascinating book behind me and left the church, much enlightened. Serendipity indeed. Clive Geraghty Happy are those who see beauty in the modest spots where others see nothing. (Camille Pisarro) Cover