Clip, Clop

Yesterday we walked around the historic section of Charleston, including the beautiful St. Philip’s Church and its adjoining cemetery. The cemetery has some magnificent live oak, magnolia, and myrtle trees and is home to the gravesites of some notable American historical figures, like John C. Calhoun.

There were many horse-drawn carriage tours on the streets of the old section as we meandered along, so our stroll occurred to the accompaniment of the clip-clop sound of horse hooves on stone streets and the smell of large working animals on a warm autumn day. It’s a peaceful sound and smell, especially in comparison to the roar of pickup trucks rumbling by, revving their oversized engines and spewing exhaust. The sight, sound, and smell of passing horses contributed to the historical feel of the area, and made me reflect on the fact that what were common, daily sounds and smells to our ancestors are now sensed so rarely—so rarely that they are a conscious means of creating a historical feel for tourists in an old American city.

I enjoyed hearing that clip-clip sound.