To Be A Bard or A Harper To Be

Edain came out of Midhir's hill, and lay
Beside young Aengus in his tower of glass,
Where time is drowned in odour-laden winds
And Druid moons, and murmuring of boughs,
And sleepy boughs, and boughs where apples made
Of opal and ruhy and pale chrysolite
Awake unsleeping fires; and wove seven strings,
Sweet with all music, out of his long hair,
Because her hands had been made wild by love.
When Midhir's wife had changed her to a fly,
He made a harp with Druid apple-wood
That she among her winds might know he wept;
And from that hour he has watched over none
But faithful lovers.

William Butler Yeats

Magic came my way last week. Let me explain. A few years ago a friend gifted me with a Celtic Lap Harp. I started to take lessons although it meant an hour and a half drive into the Bay area. Then after about 2 months, my shoulder problem made it impossible to play. So the harp sat idle. Shoulder problem resolved, I had been looking at the harp and thinking about making another attempt at finding a teacher. One of my neighbors teaches piano and we were discussing music. She found out about my harp and told me that she might have a teacher for me, i.e. one who teaches not pedal harp, but Celtic harp. She did and best of all, the teacher lives five minutes a way. We met tonight and clicked. Now I can begin to fulfill a long time dream of learning the Celtic harp. So once again I've learned the lesson that magic can happen if we just dream and believe.

Lisa Lynne, "Solo Harp":