Tuning the Peg: Part 26

The house was quiet, so I walked out toward the narrow lane where a luthier keeps his doors open to the morning air. Climbing the carved walnut leg of an upright violin stand brought me level with an unfinished wooden instrument resting in a felt cradle. A small tapered ebony tuning peg had slipped half an inch loose from the scroll box, its wound silver string drooping in slack loops across the fingerboard. I moved without sound along the polished curve of the neck. Bracing my boot against the scroll's spiral cheek, I gripped the peg collar with both hands, easing it inward with steady, turning leverage. The wood creaked once, seating firmly into the conical hole. The silver string tightened true, humming faintly in the still workshop. #Ashokahtano #Ashoka @cataww234