We went to the Newcastle Town Centre a couple days and heard afar off the sounds of pipes. They drew us like a magnet to find this man standing in the cold trying to keep his reed warm enough to not squeak. He said his reed didn't like the cold at all. We asked about his instrument and he informed us he was from Germany playing Spanish pipes. Notice the worn spot where his instrument rests? I believe there is nothing (for us) that instills the longing to know our history than the sound of bagpipes, for some reason. It must be in the genetic makeup. Somewhere in our past, pipes were played at celebrations, at weddings, at funerals, and for all good reasons. It is an effective sound that carries over hills and dales, reaching the ears and heart, with power to penetrate the very fiber of our beings to fill us with a mixture of melancholy, joy, and reflective meditation--whatever any given occasion demands. |
You make me laugh so hard, glad they are keeping your tooties toasty :)
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