For one brief moment sound found it's way through a crack in between windows. It flowed down two stories to where we stood and stopped us in mid conversation simultaneously. "What is that delicious sound?" We both wondered aloud.
It flew down not like a bug drawn to light but more like a butterfly caught accidentally in wave of wind. Delicately, hypnotically drawing our attention and making everything else in the moment disappear.
The sound bubbled out onto the pavement below enticing any curious passerby, in this case us, to stop and notice The Now.
We were led to her, like that butterfly I mentioned, to find the sound, to see where the origin of the escapee had risen from.
We rounded a corner following the music, sheepishly entered through an unlocked door, climbed quietly up to the second story floor to find a large empty room. In the far corner sat a man playing a harp-like instrument I have never seen before. The sound was exactly like it was drifting with the breeze outside but now more understandable. He didn't look up from his gaze. He kept playing... For himself and the breeze I suppose. I imagined curtains softly rising and falling, dancing along with the waves of sound.