In the over two years since my work-life changed, I am still surprised by the details I missed when I was sequestered in an office over eight hours of the day.
In one of those “life-gets-in-the-way,” moments, a person I was supposed to meet at 8:30 in a building in the heart of our town was delayed yesterday morning. While waiting, I sat in the tiny municipal department carved from a corner of an antique former home, observing as folks conducted business, greeting each other with jokes, laughter, handshakes—and welcomed me with the same.
It was the kind of day we’ve waited for over these cold weeks—blue sky and dry air, short sleeves and flip-flop weather without oppressive heat. After giving up on the appointment, I stood on the stoop outside, letting the warmth sink deep, when the 57-bell Carillon from the Episcopal Church across the street struck the half-hour with a chiming melody, lasting several minutes. As music resonated across the common and down the main street I stood, head tilted, mouth slightly open.
In the nineteen years we’ve lived in here, I’ve heard the carillon play, of course. In the summer, the church holds weekly concerts. Folks pack picnic suppers and spread their blankets on the town common to listen as visiting masters perform. One Thanksgiving weekend years ago, the tower was open for guests and we panted as we climbed the steps to the top to watch a woman play Christmas Carols. I don’t recall though, hearing, or knowing that at the half-hour, instead of a one-note chime typical of many clock towers, an entire tune rings out, bounding through the trees, gamboling down the street.
Yesterday, I learned that on any February, June or September morning, at say, 9:30 or 11:30; or maybe 3:30 in the afternoon, if I happen to be at the right place, bell-shaped sounds will turn ordinary moments into magic, infusing me with a composition of gratitude for all that life is now.
What unique moments do you encounter in your small world?
Happy Weekend and Happy Fathers' Day!
17 comments:
That's a cool discovery, Liza! And most only chime once.
It's amazing how you think you know somewhere really well and then discover something like that.
I drove the same route to and from our nearest city for 2 years before noticing a huge manor house tucked away behind some trees. Now I look at it every time I drive that way, peering through the trees to try and see more of it each time.
Oh, I love the sound of bells. I used to hear them all the time on campus when I was in college, and whenever I happen to be somewhere where church bells are ringing I have to stop and listen.
What I've noticed most lately are the birds chirping in the morning. When I was working fulltime, that usually meant -- ugh -- time to get up for work. Now it means it's going to be a great day.
Liza, that happens to us all. There are new things that I see on our farm everyday. (We've lived here almost thirty years.) Pitiful, I know. But I think that's the way it's supposed to be. I mean, God wants us to glory in his creation everyday. If we noticed things immediately, we'd have nothing to look forward to and nothing new to see in our corner of the world.
Happy Father's Day, my friend. (((hugs)))
Every once in a while I'll drive around a certain area here and it reminds me of back home. Streets lined with rosa rugosa, mullein, lilac bushes. I keep expecting to see the river, or the inlet, the boat yard. It's scary what my mind does to me in that instant.
I remember the Methodist church close to my home where I was raised would chime its bells on Sunday morning. Beautiful tunes. Then a few grouchy neighbors complained and they had to stop. Makes me mad to this day.
How do you do it? Make me live the words you write? I don't just read about your bells, Liza. I can hear their beautiful sound.
That just sounds like THE perfect moment. I would so love to sit and listen some day.
What a lovely post. I moved to Nova Scotia when I was in my mid-twenties. I lived in beautiful spots and when I left to seek my fortune on the west coast I missed it terribly. When I returned,I swore I would never let any of its beauty go unseen by me again. Still...we get blind, we become deaf, we cannot see what is offered. A good thing to let your surroundings, or your favourite people, surprise you from time to time. Yes.
Many small things, like the lizard that's hanging out by our porch that lost its tail. We are watching it slowing grow back.
What a lovely, memorable moment! If only we always had the time to slow down and soak them in. Perhaps we need to give it a shot, though?
I love moments like that, where you notice something you never had before. Nicely captured, as always, good lady.
There's something special about the sound of church bells.
We don't here any church bells around where I am, but I do hear a lot of traffic going by. Sometimes I will be jolted by the brash roar of a passing motorcycle and the noise seems to go on for a long time as it fades in the distance. I think I'd prefer the church bells.
Lee
Tossing It Out
How beautiful! I recently found a lovely park with a walking trail. I love finding unexpected joys!
Everyday moments, gently observed, are precious. It's remembering to pause and really use our senses that seems to be a challenge. Those moments bring happiness and contentment. Last week I sat and really looked at an Ibis while having a picnic lunch. I'd always thought them an ugly bird - how wrong I was, they're beautiful!
So they only chime three months out of the year?
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