Acoustics in the Spindle Hollow

Night brought a quiet stillness to the stairwell, halting my upward climb. Near the edge of the second tread, the carved turned banister spindle widened into a smooth wooden bulb. A natural hollow sat nestled right where the spindle met the floorboard. I approached the curve and braced my palms against the polished grain. Leaning close into the recessed notch, I hummed a steady, resonant tone into the woodwork. The timber hummed back with a clean, muted vibration that traveled through my fingers. Finding the interior sheltered from drafts, I slid into the concave space behind the post, folded my knees against the dark oak, and settled in to rest for the night.