Earlier this year, my husband and I were spending a couple of days at Ross Bridge Resort in Birmingham, AL.
One afternoon we were sitting in our room reading our Kindles. My husband was listening to something on his, so he wore ear buds. I had a historical romance set in the 1500’s of Scotland.
I was at a pivotal point in the story when I became aware of something vaguely sounding like bagpipes. I looked at my husband, absorbed with his own project. As I listened intently, it seemed to go away. I went back to my book.
Just seconds later, I heard it again, this time a little louder. I looked at my Scottish historical romance, then around the room. Was I going nuts or what?
Reluctantly I asked my husband if he could hear bagpipes. He was annoyed at the interruption, but pulled the ear buds out and listened. I knew I wasn’t the only nut in the room when his eyes widened and he looked toward the window.
I raced to the balcony, leaned over the railing and looked down to my right. Sure enough, there was a man in a kilt playing the bagpipes! We gleefully watched as he passed beneath us, the tassels on his knee socks gently swaying as he walked in rhythm to the age-old tune.
We learned later that the hotel is named after the ancient Celtic clan of Ross, whose descendants settled the area. What better way to show the plaid than a bagpiper walking the grounds each afternoon? And what better way to add a wonderfully surprising authenticity to my afternoon reading?