Swinging

Yup, swinging, the old fashioned kind. You know, where you get on a swing, give yourself a real good push and then start pumping with your legs until you are flying high! I had a neat dream about swinging last night...I was on the ground, watching, and the College of Piping's previous Director, Scott MacAulay, was swinging high above me. I recall that he had a big smile on his face...he seemed happy. I woke up happy, thinking about the doc, Drummerboyz. Somehow I think Scott's happy that I'm making it. After all, it was he who stepped up to me at Jeremy White's wedding in August 2007, in the shadow of the beautiful William Critchlow Harris Indian River Church, and suggest to me that 'if I wanted to go to film school in Vancouver, I should go. That a year may seem like a long time, but that it really wasn't, in the overall big scheme of things.'

Scott had likely spent a lot of time by then pondering the overall big scheme of things. He was a man who knew the value of a year. He passed away just over twelve months later. There's something about time...you just can't stop it. You grow, your kids grow, people pass on. Things pass on. Watching your kid compete at Highland Games practically every weekend all summer long passes on.

But long after, in the midst of winter, when you have a space heater tucked under your computer desk so at least your knees don't freeze, you remember. You remember the smell of the overheated brownish summer grass and dried mud. You recall the sounds of happy people, enjoying their weekend away from the office, cheering on the local pipe bands. Somewhere in the midst of the cacophony of drums and bagpipes you pick out the fine tones of a great pipe band. The bagpipes carry the tune, elegantly, serenely...and then you remember the drums...like a heartbeat, steady and true. You recall Andre, the Triumph Street lead tip, leaning his head over just so, listening to his fine young corps develop their skill as he picks out the parts that need work, or are just fine, after months of practice. You close your eyes and you can almost hear the bands, the pipes, the drums. You remember listening to the College win the North Americans in Grade Four, a few years back. You watched them at Worlds, competing in Grade 3B in 2007, with the warm Scots rain sloshing over your sandal clad toes. You thank God for people like Triumph Street's Andre, who take the time to develop young talent, and who have the guts to demand perfection. You thank God for people like the College's Scott, who built an organization that fed your kid's soul, and allowed the son of a single Mom into the Doug and Debbie Hall program (free drumming lessons!) so he could learn a skill that continues to urge him into the confident young man he's becoming. You thank God for those old summer weekends, when Scott was still around and Andre was waiting in the wings, and you sat on the side of the competition field in awe as you discovered the incredible music of the 'Pipe Band.' Still, today, there is awe, as I remember...

As I close, I will also thank the powers that be for youtube, because it is there I can call forth the music once again, the tunes of proud kilted musicians. One day, I will see and hear them as part of Drummerboyz, the doc I'm making this summer. This is the reason for the doc - to stop time in its tracks. I just wish Scott could have been here to see it - I think he'd be real proud.

Susan :)
aka filmmaker and Mom