That’s what we did as children, didn’t we? We stared endlessly at a beetle, and nothing seemed as significant as that beetle, scurrying in the sand. It knew where it was going. The pale grains of sand hissed beneath its strange black spiked legs. I can’t see close enough anymore to watch that beetle. So, I listen to something nearby. It’s almost the same thing. A chord. I just realized that a chord is made up of multiple simultaneous sounds. It’s a chord because it resonates. Sure, you could try to write a chord on a staff, but it won’t resonate there. A chord must be played. Can only two chords be played? Yes, if no one else is listening. Let’s curl up. Let’s watch the beetle as it scurries in the sand.