Deep in the woods, a melody rises, musicians are playing. The sound, as a tightrope walker, slips on the cotton cords, jumps, flies and grows. The music of the cords sneaks between the trees, floats like a nave in search of the Nymph Echo, a refugee in this wood perhaps.

Deep in the woods, a melody rises, musicians are playing. The sound, as a tightrope walker, slips on the cotton cords, jumps, flies and grows. The music of the cords sneaks between the trees, floats like a nave in search of the Nymph Echo, a refugee in this wood perhaps.