The painter and the Musician.

Within the meadow 🪷

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The rays of sunlight kissed my cheeks, as I sat myself down in the meadow, under the graceful canopy of a willow tree. I found myself enveloped in nature's bliss, with the subtle chirping of crickets and the hues of orange and pink hugging the sky. I set up my canvas and easel, pulling out my paint and brushes. The scent of wildflowers and pollen lingered in the air, as the wind brushed through my hair lightly. The meadow was a canvas itself, painted with a myriad of colors that stretched as far as the eye could see. Butterflies flitted between the blossoms, adding a subtle touch of whimsy to the picturesque landscape.

My brush glazed the canvas, capturing the essence of the flowers. The way they swayed and danced because of the brisk breeze, and the way the light captured their shadow dawning over. The soft rustling of the leaves filled my ears with a soft tune, as I hummed lightly to the music of nature.

And then, like a melodic surprise orchestrated by the universe, a distant sound reached my ears. I looked up from my canvas, intrigued by the harmonious notes that comforted me. My eyes trailed around the meadow, attempting to locate what, or who could be creating such beautiful music.

As I gazed around, I noticed a figure. Not too far away, sat the figure with a guitar nestled in their arms. The sunlight perfectly outlined the stranger, emphasizing how entranced they looked in their own music. Their hands danced around the strings, creating a certain glow to the meadow. Mesmerized, I set my brush aside and pulled my legs up towards my chest, hugging them as I rested my head on my knees. Time seemed to warp as I lost myself in the melody, my heart swelling with calmness and pure joy of the moment.

Our worlds seemed to collide in an unexpected yet harmonious way; the painter and the musician. As the sun began to dip beyond the horizon, the musicians' music faded slowly. We locked eyes, and gave each other a subtle smile. In that moment, it felt as if we were the only living breathing people to exist, engulfed in a shared sanctuary. I felt drawn to the stranger, like I had known him my entire life. And through unspoken words, we became friends.

As days turned into weeks, our bond deepend. Our connection was shared through two different worlds of art, playing harmonious instruments, and creating scenery together through a canvas. We had become inseparable. But as our bond grew, I saw the decaying energy creep up behind him. I noticed the weakness in his fingers, not able to properly put pressure on the musical strings of the guitar. Then one day, I wasn't allowed to see him. Then another day went by, unable to see him. Then another, and another. I would go weeks before seeing him again, unsure why he would disappear for long periods of time. Then, on a cold snowy day, we greeted each other in the meadow once again. His face looked pale, the once glow in his eyes now faded. He wore a thin hoodie atop his head.

He revealed to me his decaying health, and how scared he was to lose his family, his music.. and me. For the first time, we held each other arms in arms, tears streaming down our faces. From then on we spent every moment together, not wanting to leave each other's side for just a second. I would paint for him, play sweet symphonies for him, and comfort him in hard times. As the autumn leaves fled from the grasp of the trees' branches, he no longer had the energy to move nor get up. I remained by his side, telling him beautiful stories of my imaginary adventures, and reminiscing the memories we once created. One winter night, as snowflakes danced outside a frosted window, I took his cold hand and held it in my own. "You've given me a friendship that transcends space and time. In the little time we spent together, to me it felt like a lifetime. Not once would I have thought I'd gain such a kind soul like yours. Thank you." I whispered to him, my eyes brimming with tears. He weakly looked at me, lightly squeezing my hand and faintly smiling. "Remember me, even when I'm gone, remember me."

My heart filled with grief, clinging onto his hand as tight as I could. He passed away that night, and it felt as if the once glowing days had fallen into a pit of darkness. In the years that followed, the golden rays once again came out of hiding, engulfing me yet another time. I continued to visit the meadow we once shared, painting him, and playing sweet songs for him. Even though he was physically gone, his memories and soul stayed with me, forever.

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