I’m thinking quite a lot about wind chimes lately. And you’re probably thinking that I clearly need something to do with my time, now, aren’t you? But bear with me — windchimes are a worthy topic of thought, on a summer’s day.

For one thing, we’re in a patch of windy weather — a welcome break from the muggy heat that’s been (most uncharacteristically) with us here on Canada’s Atlantic coast for most of this season so far — and finally, the myriad tones of windblown chimes are drifting again through my garden.

For another thing, there’s coincidence. A friend asked me to stop in to water her plants while she’s away, but there was no convenient way to get her house keys — so she hung them on the windchimes in her back garden. I picked them up a couple of hours later, no problem — except that I really had to look for them among all the other dangley clinking bits, even knowing to look there for the hidden keys… For security, that sure beats hiding a key under a fake rock by the door!

Like many people, I just love windchimes for their gentle movement and soft voices. each one different — the delicate Mexican chimes of white shell, each piece in the shape of a flying bird — the whimsical school of flying fish, all bright tropical colors — the set of bamboo windchimes starting to crack with age and lose its tone, after a decade of sun and rain.

Of them all, my absolute all-time favourite is the set of wind chimes that my little brother made me many years ago, in his shop class, from pieces of birds-eye maple and ends of metal pipe. It has a deep rich mellow sound that soothes the soul and lifts my spirits.

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