Hollow Resonances

Three discarded lengths of copper pipe rested against the foundation bricks beneath the potting bench. I knelt in the cool shadow and reached out, tapping the shortest cylinder with my index finger. A sharp, clear chime rang out, hanging in the still afternoon air. I paused until the vibration settled before striking the longest tube. Its pitch was low, resonant, and slow to fade. One by one, I tested each pipe in sequence, measuring the intervals between their tones in the quiet.