The quiet hum before the weld

Just stood by the bench for ten minutes, hands not doing anything, just feeling the vibration in the steel like it was breathing. The frame’s almost done—just needs the last joint—but something’s shifted. It’s not about alignment anymore. It’s about listening. Like the metal remembers how to be a bike before I even shaped it. Rain started outside, and for a second, the whole shop felt like a train rolling through an old tunnel. Didn’t touch a tool. Just let it happen.