Today I heard wind chimes for the first time in as long as I can remember. I had forgotten completely how much the rounded harmonies affect me. The tones have no source; they are in my mind, audibly glowing.

Each time the experience is similar: the music moves in deliciously unpredictable ways, and I can feel myself trying to follow the melody, to introduce a pattern or purpose upon it. But the music moves naturally where it will, evading definition, denying my categorization.

Eventually I relax my automatic processes and enjoy the subtleties of an unknown direction.

One comment

  • Wind chimes are haunting in that way. Whenever I hear a wind chime it brings me back to Grandma Pat’s back porch in the summer evening with a cool breeze spawning a unique melody on four or five different chimes.

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