A Message from our President

Spring Renewal

A Message from our President

It has been – to slightly misuse the words of the Bard – a limping winter.

We’ve made the best of it, having celebrated virtually our weddings, our Christmas season, and new events for the new year such as Burns Night and Valentine’s day. In fact (in spite of everything) our membership campaign has far exceeded our targets. And here we are, still standing – and standing strong – just over a year into the pandemic.

Inexorably, time moves forward, which is both virtue and vice – depending upon one’s enjoyment (or lack thereof) in this moment.

We see evidence of this movement beyond the mere clock: shadows grow shorter; days grow longer; and the birds return to sing. In fact, we’re approaching the point

When well-apparel’d April on the heel
Of limping winter treads.

Winter limps because it’s grown old. So weakened is this violent season that it accepts both insult and injury from the young upstart. Such is the Bard’s genius – his image so painful – that we almost sympathize with poor old winter, whose primary talent, after all, is merely to destroy, whereas spring…spring can create, and those of us in the arts; those of us who’ve grown an oak of a company from an acorn; those of us who have built a career from a carefree youth, or are, with great tenderness, raising a family…well, we know which is the more difficult of the two.

Creation lies ahead for the Club. It will have its challenges. There might be setbacks. Nothing worth doing is easy. But, like spring itself, we will work to bring back LIFE.

For now, yes, events must remain virtual. But as vaccinations progress (and temperatures and UV levels rise), case numbers will drop. When restrictions ease, we will begin hosting small in-person events. The rooftop deck – being open-aired – will be a prime venue, and so we’ll open it earlier than usual. As to wedding bells, they will ring again, albeit for smaller parties to begin with. But by our AGM on June 14th, we aim for measurable growth.

Life will return this spring, as it always does. But let this be a co-creation. Together, let us make moments that should live (in a just universe) for longer than a moment.

And so, for now, let me leave you with the words of another Bard I love. Just a little poem about such a moment that we all have known (and will know) in an April, well-apparel’d:

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now


Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.

Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.

And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.