Friday, August 19, 2011

The skirl of the pipes

Yes.

Yes, I admit it.  I love the Scottish bagpipes.  Always have, ever since the first time I heard them.  I know that some folks call them "agony bags."  I know that so many people can't stand them.  But I love the sound of them!

And it's funny, you know.  Because to my knowledge, my ancestors weren't Scots.  They were English.  Some Irish.  Some Welsh.  

But I married someone of Scottish descent (both sides!)  And he loves the pipes too.  When we were first married, we used to go for long walks in the country where we lived - in a little community called South Pinette - which just happened to be across from an elementary school where the local pipe and drum band practiced their songs for the annual parade (held usually on the 2nd or 3rd Friday of August).  Their practices were on Thursday nights.  Quite a few times we would time our walks to coincide with their practices - they were GOOD!!  We'd walk and listen, and when the last notes had played and left only echoes in the night, we'd dream out loud to each other about all the things we would love to do someday.  

We used to go to the parade every year too.  Lots of people, lots of floats, and lots of pipe and drum bands from all over the Maritimes.  When our children were little, we took them to watch the parade and they enjoyed the clowns and the horses, the floats with the shiny displays and the ones with bands that played rock and roll.  

But it wasn't a parade for me ... until I heard the skirl of the pipes and the drum rolls that gave the rhythm and beat for the players to march to.  I looked forward to hearing all of them, but in particular I liked "The Scottish Soldier" and "Scotland the Brave."  I still do.

I don't go to street level to watch the parade any more, even though my boss allows me to go.  But my workplace is close enough to the parade route that if I go to a window, I can hear the music.  So today, when I went to the printer to get a print job, I heard the sound of the bagpipes coming through the window, and made a detour to go over to the window and listen for a few minutes.

The song I heard just so happened to be "The Scottish Soldier."  It stirred something in me : something noble, something nostalgic.  I started to mist over! 

Later, I had a great chat with a co-worker whose family celebrates Robert Burns' birthday and whose brothers compete in the Highland Games.  It was a wonderful conversation and she became quite animated as she talked about her family gatherings and how meaningful they were.  I left the encounter feeling grateful to have had the chance to have that talk. 

Sometimes I have days where nothing goes right.  And then there are days like today.  Thank God.

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