Drops drip

I love those moments standing in the shower just a after it has been turned off. The water continues to fall from me, small droplets pattering irregularly into the bath. From the rose comes a large drop, and then another and another. I hear their impact, a regular pulse against a random chatter.

In a school where I have been working a pond has just been filled in. Many frogs and spawn relocated, newts faring less well, their dead bodies scattered on the ground, saddening the children. A wooden fence surrounded the pond and we plan to make it into the xylophone part of an outdoor instrument, inspired by Will Menter. My friend and co-worker Abie studied his work at art college. This included a telephone interview in which they discovered a shared love of drips. (More on Abie's drips another time.) When I heard this I was very pleased to share my love of drips too.

For the outdoor instrument I would like a drip component so it can play itself in the rain. No matter how regular the pulse one can never predict the exact sound of the next drop.