In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Re-springing Your Step.”
I hooked up my Casita travel trailer when I got sick of the cold and snow at my vacation cottage in Michigan last April and waved goodbye to my husband. I hit the road without any thought other than heading south and getting warm.
Although I spent some time berating myself for being pig-headed, stubborn and maybe a little selfish and careless, I didn’t beat myself up for too long because travel energizes me and makes me happy. I was feeling mighty fine until I got to northern Florida and realized I was too tired to safely drive any further and I was still four hours away from my home, my children and granddaughter.
I had to camp by myself for the first time ever and it was Easter Eve. I found a camp site at the Stephen Foster Memorial State Park and prepared myself for a drizzly kind of night alone. Since I’d been flying by the seat of my pants and hadn’t stocked the camper, I dined on bagged popcorn and a bottle of Cabernet. I was feeling a little sorry for myself, but had a good night’s sleep … the Cabernet, you think?
I woke at daybreak to the sound of bells. When I stepped outside I found the drizzle had become a light mist blurring the towering pines and oaks that dwarfed me. The Spanish moss hung from the trees like an old woman’s prayer shawl and the bells became music welcoming Easter morning. I made a quick cup of coffee and sat enchanted on the wet picnic table bench.
The carillon tower was playing hymns and Stephen Foster’s famous melodies. As the day brightened and the mist dissolved, the birds joined the carillon and I felt as if I was sitting in a cathedral and the choir was singing just for me. I thought my heart would break with the beauty. I felt alive and energized, healthy in body and spirit. So, I said a prayer of gratitude and thanksgiving and sent silent wishes to my loved ones for a wonderful, meaningful Easter day.
A carillon is a musical instrument consisting of at least 23 cast bronze bells that are precisely tuned and arranged in chromatic progression so that music in any key can be played. Unlike other types of bells, carillon bells are fixed in a frame—the bells do not move.
Bird Song and Carillon Bells on Easter Morning
Categories: Camping, Family, Life, Travel, Uncategorized Tags: blogging 101, carillon bells, carillons, Stephen Foster State Park, Way Down Upon the Suwannee River 7 Comments
7 thoughts on “Bird Song and Carillon Bells on Easter Morning”
Sounds like a beautiful Easter morning. Thanks for visiting my blog too. I look forward to reading more about your adventures.
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I envy your freedom so much I almost don’t want to read your posts for fear of depression settling in on me…but I read. Thank you for sharing your travels.
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I would someday, very much like to fly by the seat of my pants and just go where the wind blows me. That’s been wishful thinking for many years now, and responsibilities continue to accumulate 😦 … Anyway, the travel bug is always causing me to itch and discover a new place or re-discover an old place. One day… I’ll be free to roam the world.