As I finished working in the lab today, I heard the faint echo of a bagpipe amidst the pitter-patter of rain hitting the windows. I walked to a window down the hall and the melody grew louder. I looked down over the courtyard to see a lone piper in front of one of our historic buildings playing his bagpipe.
There was no obvious audience for this solitary piper. His only crowd, I have to assume, were the other academics like me who had been drawn from their dark offices and labs to the windows, out of his sight, to listen. He stood stalwart in the bone-chilling wind and the driving rain, creating beautiful melodies instead of the usual traditional tourist tunes the council pays to have floating around the city center.
He was the pied piper, drawing people through the dark night to the Burns' Night celebration inside; heralding the light, warmth, and flowing alcohol with the sound of Scotland. You never know when the little things in life will surprise you...
The sound of a lone piper playing the bagpipe, with the melody echoing off the buildings and hills in the dark, rainy, blustery weather - this is Scotland.
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| Me: What a horrible night to have an outdoor gig! Him ( with amazing Scottish accent ): Tell me about it! Me: Well, I hope you don't get too cold out here tonight Him ( still in incredible brogue ): Too late! |
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