I am still periodically gazing at it through the window - while it sits there perched on its stand. It's not even expensive. And when it is gone I will miss it - might even rue the day that I didn't get it, as with the crimplene housecoat. Most likely though it would stand untouched and camouflaged by my wall, the colour of which needs changing. In my imagination we would communicate perfectly to each other - me and that guitar. My fret would meet its fret, harmony restored.
Today my attention was arrested by the sea. Its movement. An unusual dynamic motion. Fretting backwards, forwards and sideways, almost like a vast body of fish being herded just under the surface by a quick and frightening menace, back and forth frantically, in wide sweeping arcs. The tide was on the turn, surface almost flat, calm and light blue/green apart from these immense vibrating dark ripples darting about in the huge expanse of water. It was simultaneously beautiful and terrifying to see, to imagine what might be causing it. I should do some more research, the pull of the moon, the spring tides, wind direction etc.
I filmed it and see it in my mind played back slowed down so that every individual splutter of water is tracked.