Band practice epiphany...

At home we live within earshot of sunset church bells, a lovely reminder of what roots us. We can also hear the train at night, whose whistle and roar recollect something far away that is also near. The other day I heard what I thought was experimental alternative music coming from the basement, but it turns out the middle school marching band, in it's all vulnerable awkwardness, practices on the Mason's street. As I was coming out of their driveway this morning the band was just getting started. Somehow their sound warms my heart with thoughts of acceptance and grace. They are not very good but in a way they are perfect.