the music box
I have this music box downstairs, the one pictured here. Not really a box, I suppose, but a musical decoration in any case, with a little wind up key on the bottom.
It’s never been my favorite decoration, not my taste at all, and I don’t even care much for the song. I’m honestly not even sure where it came from. I certainly didn’t buy it and I can’t imagine anyone I know gifting it to me, though I suppose somewhere along the way, someone must have.
I have never put it away. I refuse to put it away. It stays out year round.
Every once in a while, despite having not been wound in forever (it turns out this is not the one Ryma occassionally winds and listens to), it will let out a note or two. It usually happens very late at night or very early in the morning, pre-dawn. I know there’s a logical/scientific explanation for this having to do with air pressure and temperature and springs expanding/contracting, whatever.
Friday afternoon, somewhere between 4pm and 6pm (I didn’t pay attention to the exact time but some time after Ryma got home from school and before I made dinner), the music box started to play. And not just a note or two. It dragged on, slowly doling out it’s tinkling sound, playing We Wish You a Merry Christmas one soulful note at a time, sometimes squeezing out two or three together. It played for a full minute, maybe even two.
And while the same scientific explanation may still hold, while the springs could’ve loosened enough to play longer, the fact remains that the key on that box hasn’t been wound in years.
I wanted to go downstairs and see it playing. I didn’t.
I’m reminded of some advice I once received: If the spirit isn’t bothering you, if you don’t feel any malevolence, then just let it be. Leave it in peace.
And Happy Halloween! 👻