Ghostly Music

I wonder how many children have ridden the antique carousel of Tilden Park with its spinning flash of colorful hand-carved animals? This carousel is one of the last of its kind in the U.S. and has been delighting local children and adults for nearly a century.

Last week, I paid a visit to the carousel and rode a pale silver-gray horse. It was a day of startling sunlight and my senses were delighted with the impact of glinting mirrors, white cumulus clouds and omniscient shadow. I watched illuminated and glowing faces of small children capturing enchantment.

As the carousel turned, I saw myself in the past riding a white horse with my first love. And then on a vast lion with my baby in my arms; her spun gold hair blowing into my face. In my dreams I have heard the raucous hurdy, gurdy music and the laughter of youth that knows no regret or fear. I understand that a part of me will ride this carousel forever. I have become one of a ghostly population that belongs to it as much as the wood of the carved animals, the music or the mirrors.