Some sounds that weave their way through Rosslyn days and nights are year round. Church bells. Wind and wave action. Ferry clanks and rumbles. Others are seasonal. Canada geese migrating. Peepers and croakers. Grouse drumming. Wind chimes dinging and bonging outside the screen porch.
Hanging from a limb of the cedar tree outside the pantry. A half dozen metal tubes make mellow music with the help of wind. Air pollinated melodies.
Sweet sounds of music, extemporaneous, unpredictable, gentling. Above a shaded spread of Lily-of-the-Valley. Fragrance and song mingling, sometimes dancing.
Soothing soundtrack to spring-summer-autumn in the screen porch, stretched on the teak sofa, sipping iced tea, and reading a book. And standing on our bedroom balcony, looking up at the moon, bats swooping so near, but never colliding.
The sound of wind chimes, these wind chimes in particular transport me back to the 1980s and early 1990s working as a dock boy during the summer. Omnipresent backdrop — also halyards on masts, gulls calling, the precocious purr of outboard motors — to do many summertime memories. Braiding the past into the present. Subtly. Daily.
What do you think?