when a trombone plays in the forest

Landlady Kay. She is moving out today.

Before I moved in to this apartment a year ago on Dec. 1, interviewing on the phone for the apartment, the first thing that I told Kay was that I played the trombone and that I had to play every day. Unlike the other landlords I had talked to - "Oh, I can see that's important, but that wouldn't work here," Kay said on the phone, "Oh?" - with a certain lilt in her voice. She invited me up that first night that I called to look at the apartment.

I suggested after seeing the place and knowing how perfect it was for me, that I come up the next day with my trombone and play, so that she could judge if the sound would be a problem. She liked the idea and I like to think liked me, and said yes.

I came up the next morning with my trombone. The upstairs neighbors were gone at the time, but Kay went up to their apartment to listen to my playing. I played on two poles: I played something beautiful - I don't remember what now, maybe Bist du bei mir, which I was memorizing at the time, and on the opposite pole some really squeaky high stuff from Mars that I was working. I did not want to leave misimpressions about what this experience would be.

Kay came down after I stopped playing and I had already put the trombone away in its case. She sat in the tiny sitting room and said that it sounded just fine upstairs. Then, sitting opposite me, she said, "Play something for me," and I took the trombone back out of the case, and put my music on the music stand, and played a song or most of a song for her. She was only feet away, 5 or 6 feet away, and I played ... whatever it was, I don't even think I finished it.

She just appreciated it. She sat there feet away from me and she smiled and she just liked it that I was performing for her.

I was in. I moved in December 1. I practiced every day, and I tried to adhere to good practice times and etiquette. I didn't practice in the morning. I came home a lot at lunch and got in 20 or 30 minutes. I immediately took the "not after 8:30 pm" request from my upstairs neighbors and stretched it to 9:00 pm. But almost never after 9.

The notes from my trombone are part of this place now. I played Taps for the funeral for Kay's beloved dog Dakota. Whenever I ask if I am bothering her with my playing, she says, no, no, it is wonderful to hear me and I am improving so much!

So. Kay is moving South now. Yakima is the place of her birth and the home she wants to return to - she wants to look out her window and see cows instead of bears.

And I thought tonight, when I was playing scales for my little Friday practice, I am playing, and Kay is not downstairs and she is not hearing my sound tonight.