It was a beautiful day for piping, one of those days when you think the world is your very own oyster. As I walked to my first playing venue I thought, where would the best place be to set up shop?
I found myself on the south side of temple square. One of the unique and awesome things about downtown Salt Lake City are the horse drawn carriages just waiting to take would be tourists on a leisurely ride around town. The carriages are elegant and the atmosphere is old world. Just looking at them makes you think you are in early 18th century Britain.
I enjoy getting to know the drivers, especially their horses. Let's see there's Smith, a beautiful tan Belgian. He was originally part of a team of two horses. Their names were Smith $ Wesson, clever eh? He doesn't really care for bagpipe music much, he more or less tolerates it.
Then you have Cleotus. He is a huge black beauty with the most elegant gait I have ever seen. Each step looks as though he is dancing a ballet. He lifts each hoof and places it down again with the grace of an elegant debutant. He too is none to fond of the pipes. The driver told me he tries to run the other way. Hmmm, he must be English born and raised.
Then there's my personal favorite, Bart. He is a beautiful animal. He is a Clydesdale. I was told by the driver that he was born and raised in Scotland before coming to the states to pull carriages. I knew I liked that horse, what a winner, which brings me to the interesting part of my story.
Well, I decided to play on the south side of South Temple, directly across from the staging area, where the carriages pick up their fares. The drivers assured me it would not bother their animals and that they enjoyed the pipes. So, there I was, pipes in hand preparing to serenade the town once again. Across from me were five carriages lined up waiting to service the prospective clients. Each horse rested easily in front of their respective carriage, oblivious of me or my new fangled noise makers. I decided to watch them as I played and observe their reactions.
I began playing an ole favorite, "Scotland the Brave". That's when the most curious thing happened. Old Bart suddenly lifted his head and stared straight at me. His ears perked up and stood at attention throughout the whole song. He never looked away. As I concluded the march, the pipes ceased abruptly and there was silence. Bart hesitated a moment and then resumed looking aimlessly at the ground or to some other distraction.
During this time, the other horses did not even seem to notice I was making noise at all. None of them looked in my direction or gave any indication that I was around. I wondered if it was merely a coincidence. Perhaps old Bart merely saw some movement in my direction that caught his fancy and which held his attention throughout the song. I decided to try the experiment again. This time I played "Amazing Grace" (I know, the readers are saying, "oh come on, those are simple tunes". True, but one gives the crowd what they demand doesn't one?)
As before, Ole Bart immediately perked up and looked at me. Again, his ears stood alert and erect and his gaze was intent. The other horses played their role as previously, unconcerned and uninterested. Bart listened to the complete song as before. At the conclusion he again hesitated for a moment as if expecting a wee bit more, then resumed his aimless gaze into the nothingness of the boredom that surrounded him.
I continued to repeat this experiment three more times with the exact same results. I was left with a supreme sense of humility at learning the astute nature of some beasts. They are extremely intelligent, especially the ones from Scotland who have impeccable taste in music. Who'd have thunk it?
