Feb 2nd, 2010
Serendipity happens
Too often it seems our world is surprised by violence or death or simply disappointment. I can’t bring myself to read the Wall Street Journal some mornings when the world or the country has had a particularly awful previous day. (The Oregonian doesn’t upset me as much – don’t know why.) But in the past few days I’ve been pleasantly surprised by two events: the birthday of the coining of “serendipity” and a true incidence of the same.
On the first. Serendipity was first coined on January 27, 1754, by British member of Parliament Horace Walpole. In a letter to a friend living in Italy he mentioned he’d come up with the word from a fairy tale called “The Three Princes of Serendip,” in which “as their Highnesses travelled, they were always making discoveries, by accidents and sagacity, of things which they were not in quest of.” Though they were from Serendip – today Sri Lanka – their happy accidents (and I do believe they must have been happy) seems to me the best way to travel.
Which brings me to event two. Our morning dog walk often takes us to a small park near the house. Lost Park isn’t really lost, but it is far from the madding crowds, especially in the mornings after the official work day has begun. This morning we climbed the stairs at the base of the park and heard music drifting over the trees and the tennis courts. As we got further in, it became clear it was trumpet music – random notes, perhaps scales, then gradually bars of a song I thought I could pick out. What could be more charming then a sunny February day in a cool and lush park populated only by two people, three dogs and one trumpet player (with her own dog) playing the Pink Panther theme song?
It was a wonderful way to start the day. Serendipity indeed.
It was a wonderful way to start the day. Serendipity indeed.