Now the summer time has come, the sun is bright, harsh, and merciless. In a nearby village you can almost call home, the beach is full of bustle and sound estrange, as children play and adults hide in the shade.




And there he comes, again, the man of song who is quickly gone. Legacy is that he only plays in the seasons, and in each year his appearance changes, his instrument changes, but his song is always the same. Some say he is a god who marks when the season’s first begin to change, others say he is just a traveller, but again he comes with guitar on his back and a black rucksack in his hand.




Yet this time he does not stop, he is watched with anticipation as he walks through the village, but that’s just he, he keeps walking. The golden sand seams dim in comparison to how his hair shines, and he keeps walking, through the town, through the beach, past the fisher man, over the bridge, until the impossible comes.




In front of him lies a rock with a sheer cliff face at least 50 feet high, he flung the bag on his back with his guitar, and to everyone’s amazement climbs up this small and fragile cliff with bare hand and feet, until he reaches the step.




Then all turn in amazement, to the song man above us all, sun shining behind him so only his silhouette is in sight, again his face is unseen, and he pulls out his little stool from his rucksack. Silence was held so well even the click of his guitar case could be heard across the beach. With his guitar in hand even he seems silent, not a single not strummed, plucked, played. Only the ocean could be heard.




The crashing of the waves was the only think keeping us from silence, what was he waiting for? Before that question could be asked he tapped his guitar, following by puzzled faces of his audiences, he taps it again, in time with the crash of waves on the rocky shore, he keeps taping it repeatedly. Tap! Tap! Tap! And it begins




His song is as bright as the sun, more vibrant and lifelike than the children in the sand, Tap! Tap! Tap! Along with the sea, all under a melody. The melody was not slow nor fast, it was neither simple nor complicated, it was a melody with the sea itself, grins spread wide amongst all.




Before anyone noticed children where pilling up wood, with a match the dry wood crackles, to more amazement, even the wood crackles in the beat of his song. And many gather by the fire, as it grows in size every minute that passes by, even as the sun sets he keeps playing, the fire and the stars are the only light through this night. This time the song man has came to the people, and this time we all dance, dance through the night of what was earlier a hot summers day, local old men and women get anything they can, rocks, lap or sticks, pounding a beat along with the sea.




The youth in summer love with the music played, dancing in the soft sand, resting on the cold rocks, today the song man brings cheer to us all