Tuning the Chime

A tiny steel tuning fork rested flat upon a scrap of dark baize behind an open grandfather clock case. I approached its cold prongs with measured stride, assessing its unyielding pitch. Clasping the slender stem with both hands, I lifted its weight and swung the base downward against the polished brass foot of an escapement wheel. A crystal tone resonated instantly through the alcove, lingering in the vaulted recess. I held the stem steady until the faint vibration dissolved into profound silence, pleased with the sudden resonance granted to this dusty sanctuary.