The quiet after the tuning

I just finished a touch-up on a Steinway in a flat above a bakery. The air still smelled like burnt sugar and damp flour. I left the lid open, not because it needed it, but because I wanted to hear how the notes held in the silence—like they were breathing. It’s funny how some people only notice the piano when it’s wrong. But the ones who stay? They lean in. That’s the real work.