The Mackinac Bridge is the longest suspension bridge in the western hemisphere, connecting the Lower Peninsula of Michigan to the Upper Peninsula. On the Sunday before Labor Day this year, Daniel and I crossed that bridge on our bicycles as part of a 5 day ride called DALMAC.
I was more than a little bit nervous. I had images of a swaying bridge that might topple me or make me sea sick. The bridge didn’t sway (or at least, I didn’t notice any swaying). Instead, the bridge sang.
“Sang?” you asked. Well, yes. I didn’t notice these beautiful sounds until after I had passed the first “tower” on the bridge. We were now above the water and our bicycles were on pavement. The lane beside us used by motor vehicles was iron grate. Each time a car passed by on the iron grate on my left, I could hear two beautiful tones that formed a perfect 4th. The higher tone came first. Then, as the vehicle cleared my bicycle, the lower tone sounded. At first, I thought I was just hearing things. But I wasn’t. Each time a vehicle passed, no matter what the size or type, those same two tones emanated in the air around me. It was like being inside a huge pipe organ. All the air around me was sound, and the cars were like the fingers of a master musician, strumming sounds from the huge pipes around me.
Daniel told me later that I became very silent when we were on that part of the bridge. He and I were quite chatty when we started across, probably a little bit nervous and a whole lot excited. But when I encountered those resonant sounds, I fell into absolute silence. I wanted to stop and freeze the moment, but I knew I could not. Stopping would be dangerous…and freezing the moment…well that would be impossible.
But I still have a memory. A memory of the most beautiful music I have ever encountered. Sung by a bridge and the cars passing by. For me, it was an encounter with the holy. An encounter I will never forget.
Pastor Karen