A peaceful moment of relaxation, sitting in the garden on a warm summer day, listening to the sounds of the birds and the trees orchestrated by a gentle breeze.
I allow my imagination to tune in and compare the rustling of the leaves to the harmony of piano keys, and the sparrows tweeting sound like flutes racing through their notes. The blackbird begins calling as a lonely saxophone would.
High above me the seagulls shrill with a rough discordance that draws the agony out of a badly tuned cello, as they chase after crows cawing loud in a panicked percussion of rumbling kettle drums.
Then, when the quiet peace seems to return, there is a faint calling from an unseen flacon, I hear the interjections as if from a distant clarinet. A flurry of small branches on the hedge scratch along the wire fence lamenting as weeping violins and they are accompanied by a gentle chirping of a lonely wren. Two doves in the branches of a tree blow oboe notes to each other and the wasps around my imperial biscuits provide a background buzz like softly shaking maracas.
These sounds provide reassurance of a natural harmonious world – I dare not switch on the man made radio, not just yet!