• What a Wonderful World (as seen through a piano bench reflection)

    I bumbled through the library bleary eyed.  Too much time on my computer. Crazy red streaked eyes.  Computer eye strain is a big cause of headaches in my world.  Debilitating never ending Dizzy Lizzie kind of headaches.  So I take strict precautions these days.  And when I felt the familiar socket sinking exhaustion, I took myself on a walk-about in the library.  

    My intention was to scoot out to the river for a little Vitamin D infused sunlight, but as I crossed through the lobby's double doors, into the airlock entry way, the notes were already in motion.  

    "And I think to myself, What a Wonderful World" ... I took two steps at a time rushing to hear the music oozing out of the great hall.  A private moment (upon which I was eavesdropping) between a man and a piano.  A sacred daily practice.  

    I panicked realizing I hadn't brought my iphone on this impromptu tour of the library.  I had followed the strict signage of respecting the silence and didn't want to be tempted by more squinty screen time.  But I craved recording this little moment.  My witnessing of audible beauty.  And the technology wasn't there.  But I was there.  And I was present. For a moment.  Listening, humming, swaying.  "I see trees of green, red roses too ... da da da da da da what a wonderful world".  

    I rushed back to my side of the stacks.  Searching through crumpled receipts, stray pens, and an overstuffed wallet for my beloved recording device ready to bootleg this little piece of library loveliness.  And as I quietly strode the stone stairs, careful to walk only on the balls of my shoes, I realized I had missed the rest of the repertoire.  

    The door sprung open.  A shy smiling gentleman with doggy eared music sheets clutched in his hands burst through the double doors.  He gave me a smile and a hello and was gone. Down the stairs, out into the parking lot.  I stood there craving just one more song.  I looked like a lost bookworm, perhaps searching for the protected last copy of the Oxford English dictionary.  I did not give my spying self away.  I did not thank him for making my day lyrical and lovely.  I did not concur that it is indeed a wonderful world.  Especially a world in which one gets an impromptu piano concert while taking a break from the clickety clack of computer keyboards.

    I stole this one photo when the room was empty.  The piano keys were protected under an ironic lock and "key" mechanism. Keys under key. I craved capturing some part of this musical miracle in my day.  And was about to leave the library a little lightened and a dash deflated.  And then I caught a glimpse of what I see best.  Reflections from the stalks of grass perfectly in view through the shiny black bench.  My wonderful world as seen through the seat.