There will always be a stirring in my heart at the sound of a wind chime. As a very young child I remember my grandmother, with a gentle sweep of her hand, carefully moving the thin, hand-painted glass prisms of a wind chime hanging in her dining room. I marvelled at the harmonious tones created by this simple, yet beautiful, item. How fortunate I was to be there when a soft summer breeze wafted in through the bay window, carrying the pleasant sounds throughout her home—gentle and sweet—qualities not unlike my grandmother.
I guess that was the beginning of my fondness for wind chimes of any make or description. At age 20 I purchased a rustic old farmhouse in the wilds of Gavelton, a peaceful hamlet in Yarmouth County, Nova Scotia. The east-facing veranda of the house evoked images of rocking chairs, family gatherings, and a place to seek shelter from gentle spring rains and the sweltering heat of summer.
Many years later, I still marvel at the peace and solitude of my surroundings from my vantage point in an old Victorian rocking chair on that same veranda. Bees are busily stirring in the pastel hollyhocks behind me, creating a pleasant backdrop. A myriad of bird sounds emanate from the shrubbery close by. A delicate, heart-shaped wind chime, carefully carved from capiz, or windowpane oyster shells gently tinkles in the summer breeze. As I gaze at the delicacy of this chime, I think of the special friend who brought me this gift from Southeast Asia where he was working on a project. As its gentle tones reverberate, not only does it serve to remind me of the friend, but causes me to reflect on its maker. Someone in a faraway land created this simple but intricate item that now brings me such joy.
As the chime tinkles in the soft summer breeze, I am transported back to childhood days when I first heard my grandmother’s wind chime.
Veralyn Rogers Bonnar