Last February, I was in my backyard in Linden's Skyland Estates and suddenly heard beautiful live bagpipe music being played. But because it echoed around our steep mountain slope, I couldn't tell exactly where it was coming from.
This very gifted musician continues to play unexpectedly from time to time, sometimes at dusk, but the last time was Thursday morning round 11 a.m. As the melodies poured forth, I pretended that perhaps the player was unconsciously channeling a love message to me from my Scottish ancestors on my mother's side (John Witherspoon, signer of the Declaration of Independence) or from my father's Irish side (O'Barr, changed to Barry), both of whom immigrated to the United States in the mid-1700s.
Or, is it a sprite, a leprechaun, or an angel dancing and singing among the leaves of our heavy woods? Whatever or whoever it is, the music brings great joy to our hearts and peace to our souls. Thank you, dear bagpiper. Play on!
Barb Savidge, Linden