...or was it March? I can't remember. You could only hear bits of the melody coming through the woods. Same time every evening. Quiet. The sound of trucks on the highway. Then...
I started the truck that last evening. Determined to find out where it was coming from. All those bits and pieces of music floating.
So there I went. Slowly driving down the road, window open, and listening for the sound.
On the old blog I wrote about the time that the rainbow ended at the base of our pecan tree. It was late afternoon then as well. Everything was green from the rain and the heat. All the way home we watched as the rainbow shifted. Just out of reach. Then when we came to the house it stopped there at the bottom of our pecan tree.
We found gold there. A nest full of eggs. The shined gold in the afternoon sun.
I found the source of the bagpipes. The son of a neighbor who was learning to play. Each evening, after work, he'd go out in the back yard and play to the chickens in the yard.
Yeah, it's a goofy story. Boring to most folks. These people. The stories in this post came to mean alot to me. How often do you get to see the gold at the end of a rainbow? Or hear the magic of music coming through the trees from some leprechan's dance? There was real magic.
I am sorry not to be cynical this morning. It's just that for some reason I'm happy. When you've spent time not so happy, those happy moments are a treasure.
Like dancing in the kitchen barefoot. Moonlight coming through the bay window. Laughing but not too loud. So you don't wake anyone.
The harder you try not to make a sound the more you laugh. Until you just stop caring and start laughing out loud.
Nite. Got to get some sleep.