It is dark. The night stretches out beyond midnight. The night is forever. There is a wide stretch of rock lying, resting, beside a quiet lake. Solitarily, two hands hold feet close to the chest as the wind whips across the face. There is a symphony of the croaking frogs (or toads) and the subtler backdrop of buzzing insects. The music is deafeningly beautiful. They conjure images of peace and tranquility. They remind you that you are not alone. There is always music; if you care to search.