Begin Again

As students come back to campus for the start of the fall semester, College Hill is buzzing with activity again. Students sport new backpacks and lanyards, holding on to their sunglasses and sandals for just a few more weeks until the chill of fall starts to settle in. The piano, meanwhile, seems older than ever, with its debris-filled body and weathered sides. The first years that started back in 2023, when the piano had been outside for only six months, are now in their fourth year, and many are looking ahead to graduating in the spring. The piano is close to completing this full academic cycle.

On day 1301, I visit the piano with Monty James, a 4th-year Ph.D. student in the History department at Brown. Monty's research brings together classical music and European political history, and he is a violinist and conductor, as well as a music critic for the opera website Parterre. Today, we find that two stubborn notes in the upper register continue to resist the elements: they are the only sounding keys, the hammer still making contact with unbroken strings. Each is about a half step sharp, and Monty wonders what kind of piece one could write for these two persistent notes. We also notice that the "LOMAX" name etched into the veneer is now faded and hard to read. Some smaller, patterned scratches swirl across the surface on the same side. Are these the marks of a human? A squirrel? Raccoon? "LOMAX was definitely not a squirrel, though," Monty declares.

The large yellow mushroom that has popped up underneath the piano makes me think of the liveliness of decay, that organisms emerge from – and even because of – decomposition. Today, the piano is a foundation for a spider's sprawling web, a shelter for a majestic mushroom. How many more growing creatures have been nurtured in, and because of, this spot?

Days in place: 1301

Weather: sunny, 84°F