Music. I imagine music of the spheres. Not a visual feast but an audio feast of harmonics tuned to the fluctuations of solar power as clouds drift between the sun and the boxes. I pull my sweater close around me on this cool, nearly-spring afternoon and walk up the soft hill towards the boxes. As I near, I hear tones like ribbons on the air weaving a spell. I am caught in the binding because I recognize instantly the peace each harmonic coaxes from me. I relax. I smile.
I enter a sanctuary. A sanctuary with other people equally entranced.
The tones pull me in, a willing worshiper, and I close my eyes. Sweet, gentle notes weave around me. I find myself sinking to the chilly ground, its coldness a long note seeking to penetrate my awareness. But all I hear are the tones wrapping around me, blanketing me in their peace. I am not the only one who enjoys the notes lying down. Lying supine is common.
If only the world would listen all at once to these gentle harmonics. Peace would then be promising.