There’s a rare grace and beauty flowing through this third album by hammer dulcimer virtuoso Malcolm Dalglish and his long-time, multi instrumentalist partner, Grey Larsen.

Their music – an all-instrumental mix of sprightly American fiddle tunes, raucous Celtic reels and jigs, soft spun and nearly orchestral originals – is surprisingly delicate.  Listening to “Air Born,” a sweet 6 ½-minute light of multi-textured fancies, is like leafing through an interesting family’s family photo album: There’s a feeling of expanse, travel, adventure and discovery.

“Springwater,” a Dalglish solo, evokes a tuned tin roof being played be a sudden summer rain.  “Morning,” an early 19^th-century shaped-note hymn, is transformed into a stately hymn for cathedrals of the mind.

Dalglish’s impeccable hammer dulcimer work – it sometimes sounds like a harp or harpsichord – is the perfect foil for Larsen, who moves from wooden flute (Stormy Night” is a lovely showcase) to whistle, flageolet, guitar, concertina, harmonium and fiddle.  Listen to the twisting traditional twin fiddling with Kevin Burke on “Golden Apples” and the provincial simplicity of the Hardanger fiddle on the enchanting “La Valse Pour Les Petites Juenes Filles.”

Dalglish and Larsen recently spent some time in France and Belgium, as a base of Celtic and American dance tunes has expanded to include “Five Bourees,” with their Renaissance-like percussive bottom.  The softly pagan spirit of dance is resolved in such beautiful melodies as “La Bercuse le Muffe” and the swelling title piece.  There are friends sitting in here, but it’s Dalglish and Larsen who serve up succor for mind, heart and foot.