A Low Frequency

I approached the acoustic guitar resting securely on its low wooden floor stand by the bookshelf. Stepping carefully onto the lower curve of the spruce soundboard, I balanced my boots just beside the circular soundhole. Six taut strings spanned across the opening like suspended cables. I hooked my mitten under the thickest bronze-wound string, eased it upward, and let it snap free. A deep, rich chime echoed out from the hollow body, sending a warm vibration buzzing directly through the soles of my boots. I pressed my palm flat against the vibrating grain, holding still as the gentle resonance slowly dissolved into the quiet room.