Showers earlier today kept me from planting my next batch of flowers. However, a break in the clouds drew me outdoors and into the garden. I decided today was a good day to hang a large wind chime in the backyard where its tinkling chime could be enjoyed from anywhere in the garden.
I’ve had wind chimes hanging on my covered front deck for years. I love the sound of the wind stirring the hollow metal rods. I currently have two dragonfly chimes adorning the deck. I’ve never hung a wind chime in the backyard before. We certainly used that space when the children were little. It was more of a play area with swings and a sandbox and various children’s pools over the years. And then it was just a yard. I didn’t have a seating area like I do now, or the Japanese Garden, herb garden or meditation area. It seemed fitting to bring such a joyful sound into this space that is developing beautifully.
And this were not just any wind chime. This set belonged to Greg’s mother, whom the kids called Mimi. My best guess is that these musical chimes are approximately 30 years old. Mimi Leta bought them before Alzheimer’s began to affect her memory and sap her energy. She selected this particular chime because of the music note attached to the clapper in the middle. Mimi was a gifted pianist. She played the piano most of her life, in churches, for choirs, and during special occasions, like weddings and funerals, but mostly she played for her own enjoyment. Music was important to her and was a huge part of her life.
The wind chime with the bright red music note was symbolic of her love for music. She hung the chime on her front porch, where its tinkling music filled the air around her home long after the piano in the living room fell silent. And longer still, after Mimi herself fell silent and no longer graced us with her presence. Recently, as I sat on the porch with Greg’s dad, listening to the chime as the breeze played a soft song, he asked if I’d like to have the wind chime for my garden. I was honored. I didn’t want to take something that still brought him joy, but Dad Moore insisted that it was time for the wind chime to go to someone else.
This afternoon, I climbed up on a two-step ladder and perched there, secured a hook in the northeast corner of the detached garage. The wall of this structure is behind the brick seating area. I carefully hung the wind chime. The summer breezes can stir the rods and send music drifting throughout my garden. Mimi would have enjoyed sitting with me at the bistro table, sipping a cup of tea, chatting, and admiring the plants and flowers. Having the wind chime makes me think of her. And every time I hear the tinkle and see the music note, I’ll remember.
Near the top of the wind chime, suspended on the chain that holds the clapper, is a red heart. That ruby heart reminds me of her love of music, but more so, it reminds me of her love for her husband of 57 years, for her sons, for her grandchildren and for me. As the gentle waves of music fill my garden, I imagine her love radiating outward too, caressing each person enjoying the garden. The thought makes me smile.
Another first…adding a video. Mimi’s wind chime.