If Instruments Could Talk: Playing Through Wyoming Weather

Trills and Tribulations of a Piccolo

I have a sister who is much better suited to the concert hall than the Wyoming outdoors.

She’s my Concert Sister—the socialite of the family. She’s made of beautiful grenadilla wood with shiny silver keys, and she has a warm, rich voice. Elegant, refined, and very particular about where she goes.

Me? I’m the Wyoming Cowgirl.

I’m made of resin and metal. I’m louder, brighter, and a little more piercing. Rain, snow, cold—I don’t mind getting a little weather on my boots.

Someone has to ride out when the weather turns.

I was practically born for this job.

The Fair-Weather Woodwinds

My sister isn’t the only woodwind who prefers to stay dry. The oboes and bassoons are even more particular. They’re the indoor girls of the band—beautiful instruments with wonderful voices, but when the weather turns ugly, they don’t even pretend to be interested.

I once asked my sister if they ever play outside.

“Not if they can help it,” she said.

I respect that. Everybody has to know their limits.

Because playing outside in Wyoming isn’t just uncomfortable. Too much moisture, freezing temperatures, or hot sunshine can damage wood instruments like my sister—or even crack them. And the weather can make all of our instruments react differently, making it harder for the band to stay in tune.

And unfortunately for me, the piccolo has a reputation.

We’re small. We’re high. We’re hard to ignore. When we’re a little out of tune, everybody notices.

So when the notes start wandering in the middle of a cold, wet outdoor concert, guess who gets the blame?

Yep.

Me.

“It’s not always my fault,” I tell my sister.

She just smiles.

Of course she does. She’s the Concert Piccolo. She gets to stay warm and dry in her case while I go out there and take the blame.

My Wyoming Weather Résumé

My sister and I were reminiscing about old times the other day, and naturally, the conversation turned to weather.

Take the Best of the West Parade in 2022. Only about half the band was brave enough to show up, and those of us who did ended up playing through a downpour from the parade trailer.

I was out there playing.

My sister was safely tucked away.

That’s what I’m for.

We’ve played through just about everything Wyoming can throw at us—rain, snow, hail, freezing temperatures. One year, it even snowed on the Fourth of July.

The Lighting of the Town Square has given me some particularly memorable evenings. I’ve played while snow fell around us and watched it pile up on the music so quickly that pages had to be wiped off in the middle of a piece.

My sister’s favorite memory is the trombone.

She wasn’t there for that one. But when I told her about the trombone, complete with an icicle hanging from its spit valve, she said, “And this is why I prefer indoor concerts.”

I have to admit, it was impressive.

Then there was Taps Across America this year.

My Concert Sister had the job that day. The weather looked fine, and nobody was expecting the storm that was moving in.

We could see it coming as we played, but we had one reason to be there: Taps, promptly at 3 p.m.

She made it all the way to the final note.

Just as the last beat ended, the rain started.

The conductor immediately called for the band to pack up.

My sister came home a little wetter than she’d planned.

I didn’t say, “I told you so.”

I’m a professional.

Someone Has to Play

Being the Outdoor Piccolo isn’t always easy. Cold fingers need gloves, but gloves can get caught on my keys. Sometimes my keys freeze shut. Sometimes rainwater finds its way into places where it definitely doesn’t belong.

But I can handle a lot more than my Concert Sister.

She has to worry about moisture getting into her wood, extreme temperatures, and those expensive little pads that help her make beautiful music.

I just have to keep going.

And that is what we both do.

Because when the Jackson Hole Community Band is invited to play outside, we don’t always know what the sky has planned.

But we show up anyway.

We play for parades. We play for veterans. We play for holiday celebrations and community gatherings.

Sometimes we play in sunshine.

Sometimes we play in snow.

Sometimes we play while wondering whether the music will still be readable by the end of the piece.

And sometimes, when Wyoming weather gets serious, my Concert Sister stays home and lets me take the field.

She may be the concert piccolo.

But I’m the one with the Wyoming weather résumé.

Moral of the story? Some instruments face the weather. Some wisely stay home. Either way, the music goes on.

And if you enjoy hearing the Jackson Hole Community Band—whatever the forecast—consider supporting us through Old Bills. Your support helps keep the music playing, the instruments cared for, and this bunch of weather-braving musicians showing up for our community.

After all, a cowgirl’s work is never done. Sometimes you just have to hang on tight, give it a good trill, and ride on!