The Music of Spring: That Doesn’t Say Spring
The graphics department proposed shots of Greek ruins, photographed through color filters. All of us shuddered at the sight of the Parthenon beneath a salmon pink sky.
“No, that isn’t even the right temple. If it were Delphi, or Parnassus, it still wouldn’t work. The picture has nothing to do with our music or the band’s name,” I objected.
“That doesn’t say ‘Spring’ to me,” Euterpe said.
“What does?” I asked.
“Frogs. You know—those tiny frogs that sing in the trees, spring peepers. My little brother tries to catch them every year.” She sighed melodramatically, flung her arms wide and said, “Ah, the music of ‘Spring’.”
We laughed until we slid out of our chairs, but the first cover depicted a mass of tiny frogs. To Wilson’s amazement the CD sold ninety thousand copies. Our career didn’t exactly skyrocket, because we all stayed in school, and played gigs only on the holiday breaks.
After graduation, we spent the summer recording for our second album. The graphics department thought they were ready for our opinions as the senior designer revealed a mockup with a bird’s nest and the band’s name in fluorescent green letters.
“I don’t know about you, Aoede, but that doesnt say ‘Spring’ to me,” Hypate said as she shuffled a Slinky™ from hand to hand. She let it drop to the table, and flipped it end over end.
“You’re right,” I agreed. “Springs say ‘Spring’, or should it be ‘spr-oing’ this time?” The cover we approved, a tangle of springs, made some of our fans dizzy.
The Music of Spring is a short story in nine parts. Stay tuned for the next installment: The Music of Spring: The Fountain.
Read more of my published short stories here.
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Ruth DeMaat
Heidi Kortman
Krystine Kercher
Heidi Kortman