Happy Solar Return!

Here’s a unique and cool way to wish someone “Happy Birthday!”

“Happy Solar Return!”

It was the occasion of MY solar return and one of my gifts was an A M A Z I N G windchime.

I thought all chimes were pretty much the same with only slight variations in tonality and musicality, but I was SO wrong.

Apparently there’s a whole world of chime tones and chimemakers. What a beautiful passion to share with us!

I don’t know much about music, but when I heard these chimes for the first time, it was as grand-sounding as a symphony.

Of course, I had to research the company. Woodstock Chimes are the original musically-tuned wind chimes, tuned to appealing melodies and scales from around the world.

The company was started in 1979 by self-proclaimed “old hippie” and Grammy Award winner Garry Kvistad.

My chime gift is called the Tree of Life, adorned with crystal accents along with “soothing sounds that offer tranquility and space for reflection”.

“With its promise of eternal life, the Tree of Life myth exists across cultures and dates back to ancient times. It is a representation of mankind, symbolizing how we are rooted on the earth even while we are reaching for the stars…two birds are nestled in the tree’s branches with crystal accents in a bright, bold green; the color of growth, renewal and spring.”

Listen for yourself: https://www.chimes.com/products/tree-of-life-chime

This was a splendid way to celebrate my solar return! I sure wish I was at that lake, but this is a much better photo than the ones I took. Mine is hanging on my deck and the crystals catch the sun and scatter all the colors of the rainbow.


Happy Birthday, Edward Albee

Edward Albee

Edward Albee-Courtesy of flavorwire.com

“Well, when I was six years old I decided, not that I was going to be, but with my usual modesty, that I was a writer. So I starting writing poetry when I was six and stopped when I was twenty-six because it was getting a little better, but not terribly much. When I was fifteen I wrote seven hundred pages of an incredibly bad novel—it’s a very funny book I still like a lot. Then, when I was nineteen I wrote a couple hundred pages of another novel, which wasn’t very good either. I was still determined to be a writer. And since I was a writer, and here I was twenty-nine years old and I wasn’t a very good poet and I wasn’t a very good novelist, I thought I would try writing a play, which seems to have worked out a little better.” — In an interview with The Paris Review, 1966