Editor:
Thursday morning, I awoke to a sweet verse played on a lone horn outside my window.
I ran to open the curtains to see if the player was in my back yard. No sign. I then looked to the west, to the east. And then to the north. No sign of the player anywhere.
Turns out the neighbour down the lane heard the music, as did a friend around the corner.
What a way to wake up. Music in the air, Chinook blowing, wondering, remembering, knowing how lucky we are.
Thank you, whoever played that horn Thursday morning. We remember those who fought for us to have what we have today.
Jane Whitney,
Canmore
