Church bells.

It's only darkness, and you're numb and not feeling. But then little bits of life creep into your soul, tiny pieces of light, and sound, and music. And you open your eyes, to find the familiar room you fell asleep in the night before, only it's different now, light; sunshiny. The dark has been washed away. And when you sit up, you feel dizzy from sleep, but at the same time, you're ready to face a brand new day. But not just yet; there's something there, keeping you sitting there in the room. It's music. A mystical music. An unknown sound coming from a distance. You remember the sound from days of your childhood. Suddenly, you remember other summers when you'd wake up in this same room, only you were younger, and you remember running in this same place with your barefeet, the smell of the ancient farmhouse filling your head and leaving memory marks inside your heart.
You sit in the middle of the parlor floor, and look at your two companions, still asleep with their mouths hanging open, having no clue whatsoever of the mystical bells ringing from somewhere outside your summer domain.
You remember yourself as a little girl. You sat on your parents bed, listening to the mysterious sound of bells coming from somewhere unknown. You asked your father what the strange music was. When you were small, you were tranzed by such beautiful unknown musical beauty.
Now that you're grown, you know the sound. But still, it hasn't lost it's effect on you. It's the church bells from the small church up the dirt road. You remember playing the graveyard as a child, and never you knew that this place was where the mysterious morning sound came from.
But now you know. And you climb out of your sleeping bag, sit on the old by the window, and listen. Though you can't see the music nor the church, you can listen, while looking out at the place where you grew up during your summers. The place that you'll soon lose, the place you'll be too old and too frail to visit anymore. And so you breathe in the memories, the smell, the sound, and the childhood church bells, as much as possible, so you'll have a mental picture album to look through when this place is no longer a place you'll spend your summer.