Day nine: Bells

August 23, 2013 -
Oddly enough, this is the only picture I can find of my
chimes and you can barely see them on the right.

I think of all the bells that have had a significance in my life and realized that most of them are the soft laughter of the wind chimes in my gardens and yards. As far back as I can remember there have been chimes singing out in the night as I drifted off to sleep. During the soft breezes I'd hear a gentle ting of the metal hitting against the wooden striker. When the storms would, hit the clang of the pipes would ring out in alarm at the sudden gusts. Then they would quiet again as the thunder faded.

There was a small set that I'd hung in the front bushes in Sandusky. The neighborhood cats would walk near them, occasionally rubbing against them before they'd lay down for a cool nap in the shade. There were larger sets hung near the gates to the back yard that would warn me of any uninvited visitors. And there is a large set of pipes currently in a box awaiting new string for repairing. I even have a tiny chime that was once a pair of earrings and I'd smile as I walked because I felt like I was carrying the magic with me.

I can't imagine a home without the sound of wind chimes. No more than I can envision a home without a cat. It would just feel discordant to me.