The sun, with its rays of light reaching for me through the branches and leaves, gently touches my back, leaving an imprint of warmth. The slender blades of grass like dancers in the golden breeze sway, so gracefully gliding through the air. Their dance is a trance, and oh how mesmerized am I. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I smell the sweet, damp smell of the earth beneath me, breathing it in as if breathing in life itself. A few birds harmonize weakly up in the tree tops, their small chirps challenging the still silence of the day. The day is beautiful and right. Slivers of sun paint the greenery around me bronze, another piece of the Artist’s collection. The scene is a masterpiece. I am perfectly content in this little careless world of mine, far away from the real, bigger, and much more hostile world of worries. With a sigh, I look down, letting my hair fall down and tickle my face. My eyes flutter open, and the sudden light makes me squint. Two soft gleaming emeralds lay before me. Facing the evening sun, they are brought to life and they sing. They sing the song of a child running through the rain, they sing the song of the mountains refusing to sway under the strength of the howling wind, they sing the song of the empty night sky, they sing the song of loss, the song of pain, the song of love. They are singing, singing, singing… And back at me they stare. It is his eyes I see. In a too fast, and too loud, and too animated life, it is these eyes that hold me. They hold me with their loud melodious gaze, and just for a few moments, the world… my world, is perfectly still.