Joy Notes
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Both he and his wife, she told me, were avant garde pianists, gifted with a remarkable and rare ability to read random visual patterns as if they were sheet music.
They would sit at twin pianos and someone would project on the wall a photo of some colorful abstract painting or design. Immediately the two of them would begin to play, translating the piece into wondrous melodies that perfectly captured its mood. She had heard them herself, she said.
I thought of her story when I saw the berries, their reds sprinkling the woods with cheer. So bright and merry were they that I could almost imagine how their melodies would dance across a keyboard, joy notes, ringing out their sheer delight in being.
Maybe on other dimensions, they read the patterns of our lives as music. Do you suppose? Just in case, let’s write long passages of wonder and of joy for them—little love notes, in celebration of our being.
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