A contribution by Moss2
Blue sky overhead, you follow the stream and reach an old willow tree, a favorite spot. Bees look for flowers at the lush riverbank as you sit in the dry grass at the base of the tree, set down your picnic basket, and tune your guitar. Chimes dangle from the low branches, playing like marimbas in your mind. Puffy white clouds rest at the edges of the sky, the water is calm, your mind free of worries for now. The birds sing on the branches of the tree, and with your guitar you join their song.