Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Clip Clop

Clip clop, clip clop. The silence of the countryside was interrupted by the steady pace of a horse trotting down the road pulling a buggy behind. Growing up living side by side with the Amish, I took for granted the simple sound. Clip clop, clip clop. I remember waking early on a Sunday mornings to  that sound echoing through the dawn in rain, snow or whatever God chose for them that day. An eerie yet comforting sound. A sound from yesterdays long past. Clip clop, clip clop.

My children were probably around 10 and 12 when went back to the farm. Dad asked a neighbor if he would take our family plus Meg on a buggie ride. This was a treat for us and an unusual request of an Amish family. Taking non-Amish on joy rides was probably frowned on yet Mike hesitantly agreed. The three kids excitely piled into the back of the buggie while I sat in front with Mike. Soon the excitement of following a horse down the road gave way to silence. Clip clop, clip clop. We were all sensed another time wondering what it would have been like growing up as our great grandparents had. My father had farmed with horses before the tractor came onto the scene. Here we were visiting our past.

Clip clop. Silence. No car roaring down the road with the wind blowing through the windows. No need for speed to get somewhere in a hurry. The sound of hoof meeting road was the only sound we heard. No, wait, we heard the creek running over the rocks, we heard the cicada, the cricket, the flies. We slowly passed the pond with the trees at our fingertips. Perhaps we even found ourselves a little closer to our beginnings. A little closer to our souls.

Clip clop clip clop. I share this quiet journey with you. Close your eyes and listen.

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