In the stillness of an Afternoon

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Today’s Blog Post


In the stillness of an Afternoon
The magic of the moment was spell binding. As we walked hand in hand we heard the first strains of the pan pipes drifting our way. It was amazing.

How do you possibly capture this moment? How could you bottle this opportunity for others to hear and sense.

Suddenly as my wife and I were walking toward the source of the sound we were whisked away to another place in time. Our feet were crunching on the grey gravel of a magical path in Guangzhou, China… no longer in Peterborough, Ontario but rather all the way around the world. As we had walked by the still pools of water with the large Gold Fish swam quietly below the lush green foliage over hanging their liar.

The moment had transported us to the small pagoda that sat in the centre of the garden with its round doors and still presence. All around the pagoda were the lush vegetations of almost every plant that was ever created.

We sat on the large, carved rosewood chairs near the marble topped table and listened. Not far away was the call of small bird that was clear and crisp. Answering that small call came another chirp from the other side of the pagoda… then a different one. Then all was absolutely still… until the soft strains of the pan pipe came across to the pagoda. It had woven its way through the bushes and the hanging tree branches softy and tenderly, spilling over the water to our ears.

The stillness, the lush vegetation, the sound of the small birds that seemed to be everywhere, all bowed to the sound of the pan pipe.

Leaning a little to the right and looking through the window, past the large ferns hanging there, I caught the image of a person sitting near a quiet pool. It was an older man with his wooden pan pipe held to his lips. The only motion was his hands as he moved the pipes left and right finding another place to blow. The strains of the pipes filled the air.

As we listened to the man playing, a beautiful young lady dressed in her silk embroidered tunic brought us the brown, clay pot of hot tea and the small cups that matched. I can smell the tea now as I write… how sweet and fragrant it was…

The taste of the tea, the stillness of our surroundings, the sound of the pipes being played… mixed with the sites of the garden… was overpowering… and so wonderful… I savour it again this early morning.

From the third paragraph until now… of this article… it was 26 years ago when my wife and I sat in that pagoda together and filled ourselves with the moment.

WOW – what a feeling….

The first two paragraphs happened yesterday… right in the middle of the muddle of a Saturday in Peterborough. That happening is what triggered the memories of 26 years ago in that beautiful Tea Garden in China.

Alida and I had to adapt a planned outing for “39 The Second Time” that was to happen yesterday morning. Because of death many of the folk were helping at the funeral lunch afterwards. What was going to be a picnic for the 39 TST was converted into a smaller hike in Jackson Creek Park. Our plan was to walk to the “Cedar Cathedral” as I have named it… then sit and enjoy the reverie.

For non Peterborough folk, Jackson Creek Park is a place that has been set aside for all in our community to enjoy. From the small park there is easy access to the walking path that winds its way toward the next town, Omemee. The flat path is the old railroad bed that has been worked on to provide a beautiful escape from our busy city and life.

Even parking in the small lot lets you step away from the Saturday rush up above. From the car park to the reflection pool you begin to drop everything of the baggage of the previous weeks and days off. When you step on to the covered bridge the world behind lets go and you leave behind the other stuff that has kept you from this world.

As we stepped off the bridge on to the grey gravelled road, our feet made the stones crunch… the bird to our left were calling the ones across the reflection pool. The air was absolutely still… Then a duck quacked on the water. It was at that moment that the sounds of the Pan Pipes drifted our way across the reflection pool. I leaned a little to the right and caught a view of a man sitting on the bench beside the still water… he had the Pan Pipe up to his mouth and from it came the most amazing music.

As we walked by the man and listened, Alida squeezed my hand and said, “This is just like China… remember that time in the Tea Garden… wow…”

We walked on listening. The sound followed us… skipping in and out of the trees with their budding leaves.

To our left the small creek bounced over the stones and from our back the Pan Pipes played with the quite spaces.

We were quiet beside each other as we held hands… the Pipes… the creek’s babbling… the soft sound of the stones below our feet… then the birds again… calling over and over again.

It was pure magic… stillness that we had not experienced since last fall’s walk in this place. The creativity in me was flooding back to full again… oh how I needed that moment.

Within about five minutes we arrived at our Cedar Cathedral. Nope – it is not a church like some may be thinking… it is just a special stand of very, very high Cedar Trees that must be at least 60 feet high… as big as the trees in our front yard at home.

Stepping off the main path it is sombre… a new quiet… a stillness and there is no sound under your feet. The softness of the years of dried Cedar scales cushion your feet. A mere 100 feet is the babbling brook again… laughing now as it trips and skips around the stones, under the logs, between the little islands…

This is the Choir singing… continually… unsupervised or conducted. It is loud and it is soft… in perfect balance at the same time. The harmony is amazing – not just in the sound but also in the whole of the scene that is surrounding you. Each Cedar tree stands solid… the water babbles and sings… then there is the absolute stillness pressing in around us.

As we sat on the large stone together we listened… The Pan Piper was not there any more… just the amazing song birds singing their solos in the Cathedral.

It was at that moment that I realized a new thought… this place has been here since the start of time. No one has ever built on this spot… it is completely a virgin track of soil…

Certainly if you listen with a good imagination you can hear the old Steam Locomotive that puffed through here many, many years ago… but that is gone too…only memories fill this place.

There has been other people in this place though. “Late Nighters” likely… a camp fire lays still with some rascals leaving behind a broken bottle… but when they left silence stooped to clean it up…

We sat for a long while… and talked quietly. At the edge of the brook three ducks worked the weeded areas, shovelling for food below the surface.

We made plans to come again and bring 39 TST… who… for individual reasons… they couldn’t make it this time.

As we started back to the main trail heading home again… the sound of the creek came and went… kids played in it… and people with dogs walked by us.

But… there it was again.. the sound of the Pan Pipes. The old man sat on the same bench playing. At the moment we walked over to meet him… he was speaking with a young lady.

I asked him of his Pipes… “Where did they come from?”

“This one is quite old… it is my Romanian Pan Pipe… and this one is a few years newer – it is from Germany.” His hand held them tenderly… and his fingers ran over the surface lightly. He explained that their curved shape was designed this way so that you did need so much movement to get to the next note.

I was spell bound by his explanation.

I shared with him about the Cedar Cathedral and how good the sound might be in there. He had not heard of it yet… nor been there.

As we walked away… the Pan Pipes came alive again… with the sound spilling across the reflection pool again…

“Amazing Grace how sweet the sound…” was clear and sweet throughout the park……… Never have I head it played better…

~ Murray Lincoln ~
http://www.murraylincoln.com/

Source:
http://davepighills.stormpages.com/
http://www.panflutejedi.com/viking-pan-flute-tutorial.html