Yesterday I had such a wonderful surprise. A couple from Chicago, Floyd and Arlene, whom I hadn’t seen in 16 years, decided to come by the cottage for a visit. We called some other folks who were friends, and we all met at the beach for a swim and a time to catch up. All our kids are grown now, some with kids of their own. Back in the day, we had logged many hours at the lakeshore watching our kids play together. As my mother used to say, “The beach is a great babysitter”. It was amazing that we had so much in common after such a long time of not hanging out.
Arlene brought along her Native American flutes, which she played for us, and encouraged us to play with her. These were beautiful, handmade instruments with scrollwork on one, beadwork on another. They were exquisite to the touch as well as the eye. They had been lovingly crafted, and carried a sacred energy.
As I began to play under the beach umbrella, everything around me and inside me got very still, even as I was listening to the waves accompany me. I closed my eyes, and just drifted into the mystical sound of the pentatonic scale. In my younger days, I had played clarinet and recorder, so the feel of the flute wasn’t altogether unfamiliar. Arlene joined in, as we made up a spontaneous duet. We were transported.
So, even though some of our visit was spend catching up on all the important events of the last 16 years, the amazing part of our time together was this silent connection, through the music of the flutes. Sometimes, old friends don’t even have to talk. We were just content to be together. What a blessing.