TAPS and a little Reminiscing

TAPS
Day is done.
Gone the sun.
From the lakes
From the hills.
From the sky.
All is well.
Safely rest.
God is nigh.

Fading light.
Dims the sight.
And a star.
Gems the sky.
Gleaming bright.
From afar.
Drawing nigh.
Falls the night.

Thanks and praise.
For our days.
Neath the sun
Neath the stars.
Neath the sky
As we go.
This we know.
God is nigh.

There's an email that arrives now and again into my Inbox. It tells the story of the origin of the melody of TAPS, the haunting, four-note piece that bugler's play at military funerals. I won't include that story here... that is not what this note is about.

Years ago, we went houseboating with another family down at Dale Hollow Lake. One afternoon we took off from the others and eventually tied up the houseboat in a secluded finger of the lake. Josh got out his trumpet to practice and had a great time, playing duets with the echoing cove.

As the sun started to set, standing on the top of the houseboat, he slowly played TAPS.

Dusk was beautiful - the water was still, reflecting all the surrounding trees and the colors of the sky. The notes flew down the cove and softly echoed back to us.

It was beautiful.

The five of us were together and it was perfect.