Serendipity. I was to have dinner with friends in Concord that night. I wanted to see my pal Peter’s art exhibit at the Groton School’s Brodigan Gallery. And I had long delayed a visit to my Groton-based friend Karen. Plus, I had the afternoon free. It all worked out and it all was wonderful. Karen’s house is a charmer, just like she is. And she accompanied me to the exhibit of Peter’s collages, prints, collections in jars and type trays. Beautiful and obsessive. Or, to quote Karen, “Mad as a hatter.” I’d never been to Groton much less to the school and its extensive grounds. So before we left the old building that housed the gallery, I crept like an intruder up the circular staircase to the second-floor dining hall. It reminded me of all those British schools we see in movies like Harry Potter and the Whatever. But when I looked up...this! Dozens of Asian parasols suspended from the ceiling. A bit of unexplained whimsy floating high above all that formal tradition.