sounds, movement, and wonder

Wrote this last night as I travelled home from my first visit with Christina and Andrew's little baby girl Tehya:

I climb up to the top deck, walk all the way to the back of the ship and watch and wait as the boat prepares to leave.

The gong of a bell and the mumbling of pipes. The engine starts and the water gurgles, bubbles, splashes, and foams. The muscles of the big ship shift and groan as slowly the movement begins. The clink and clank of metal hitting metal, gears, shifting, doors closing; every gear in its order, ever moment perfectly timed to push the monstrous boat from shore.

For whatever reason, I think instantly about sitting waiting for the orchestra. The first ring of the departure bell reminds me of the first tentative notes as the orchestra warms up. This is always my favourite part; the horns toot and whistle and instruments each begin to jump in. The discord and beauty of that moment, as the pipes, drums, strings, bells, and horns make their initial noises before the show begins. The anticipation of it all overwhelms me. The intensity of each note from each separate instrument is evident as they twist and swirl around each other in power and strength. The glory of it all as it begins to harmonize, grow, build develop, and take off. Every initial dissonant note comes together in an amazing organization of sound and musical texture. It always amazes me.

Today I stand looking down at the surging water and amaze at the wonder of this ship. My mind pays tribute to the human achievement of this moment-how every part comes together to work in such harmony...and then, I think back to the tiny little baby I held in my arms today; her sweet face, her expressive mouth, her strong long limbs; three days old and a perfect wonder. Amazement is relative.