During my usual amble around the valley yesterday morning, I was unexpectedly drawn to walk through the short old tunnel in the hillside.
Framed by the arch, the light falling on the puddles inside reflected clear blue sky and autumn trees, with their remaining golden-green leaves glinting in the sunlight.
Standing there, I simply had to sing.
And then I noticed something surprising.
The echo of the tunnel is always magical. Yet, there was a note at which the sound reverberated more than usual.
I could feel it as much as I could hear it.
Experimenting to find the precise pitch where the harmonics came to life, I pressed record.
Back at the house, I discovered the note.
B…