When Joseph sat me down at his keyboard to pick a nice set of notes for my wind chimes, I realized I strongly preferred the deep notes, and would be dissatisfied with a high tinny sound. But I was also moving to NYC, where I wouldn’t have much space. I settled for a C minor 7 chord an octave higher than I originally chose. The wind chimes would only be about as big as I am, and I figured I’d have space. We slowly built them together, measuring and cutting the pipes, making a pottery bell to hang them then a wooden frame to suspend it all. We picked a nice round wooden block as the striker, since it kept them ringing for a long time.
Today, I heard my usually quiet neighbors banging pots and pans and yelling “Thank you! Thank you health care workers! Thank you!” out the window. I vaguely remembered hearing that New Yorkers were cheering for essential workers at 7pm each day, and it was indeed 7pm. I don’t like to yell, but I banged my chimes, trying to keep time with the pots and pans. I was proud of how long the pipes kept reverberating.