Gift of the Piano

(re-post)

I went to one of the Painted Pianos * very early this morning and played to the ocean and the sun and the birds.  Summertime.   Annie's Song.   The Rose.

I kept hearing sounds as if someone was  shuffling behind me and three times I stopped and turned around.  But there was no one there.

Then I realized it was the keys nudging against each other, lightly, wood on wood.

Later in the day I returned to the piano and others were now there.  I could not make the keys do it again. 

Perhaps the proximity to the sea overnight had made the wood expand a bit  and then the sun shrunk it again.  Whatever the reason,  to me it was a gift.

*  Part of the Oak Bay Summer Public Art Project.

Posted on July 19, 2015 at 04:44 PM | Permalink

I went to one of the Painted Pianos * very early this morning and played to the ocean and the sun and the birds.  Summertime.   Annie's Song.   The Rose.

I kept hearing sounds as if someone was  shuffling behind me and three times I stopped and turned around.  But there was no one there.

Then I realized it was the keys nudging against each other, lightly, wood on wood.

Later in the day I returned to the piano and others were now there.  I could not make the keys do it again. 

Perhaps the proximity to the sea overnight had made the wood expand a bit  and then the sun shrunk it again.  Whatever the reason,  to me it was a gift.

*  Part of the Oak Bay Summer Public Art Project.