One summer, a group of musicians wandered into our garden.
They knelt down on the grass and looked up at the sky as one.
We watched from our kitchen and made them tea. Suddenly they were gone.
When we looked we saw that where they had knelt the grass had formed into tiny patterns of musical notation.
Painstakingly we gathered them up and entered them into our singing machine, which after a time produced these 5 pieces ... well, who'd have thought?
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