He stands there silently watching, unnoticed, an ever-present shadow, from the shaded brush. His painstakingly hand-carved bow is gripped tightly in his hand as he looks ahead through the thin layer of fog. The scene laid out in front of the secretive man is picturesque. As if in a painting, all is still. Not even the grass and leaves sway in the gentle breeze. He fears any movement would cause this brief moment to end all too soon. Birds and other small creatures of the woods are hushed as the maiden's voice flourishes and grows into something straight from a novel his mother would read before bed. No suppertime call is made by the mother wolf to her young cubs. Not a single added note is called from the birds sitting above in the canopy of trees.
It is a rough log by a slowly moving stream upon which she sits. The low trickle of the brook adds a sense of peace and safety to all close enough to hear it. Yet the sound doesn't compare to the melody sung by this fallen angel before the man. Fallen flower petals of red float through the crystal clear water. The added color seems dim when compared to the glow radiating off the young maiden as her alluring voice is carried away on the wind. As if in a trance the young man continues to stare at the damsel, his eyes unable to tear themselves away from her grace and beauty.
The dress she wears is made of silk and is pure white. Light pink lace runs across her chest directly above her breasts. Her arms rest freely on her legs without the restraint from sleeves on her shoulders. The long, flowing material of the gown shimmers in the low light of the forest. Black flowers and merged with single white one lay on the side of the dress as a small, unneeded, added detail. Small flowers become tangled in the girl's hair as she closes her eyes and leads herself into another verse of the song. A larger flower rests above her ear with beaded pearls hang down the side of her face. A small gust of wind makes her hair blow and wave like a flag on top of a castle. The watching man can't help but imagine raven black wings sprouting from her back to swiftly carry her back to the heavens.
The soft melody stops as abruptly as it had started. The young woman begins to stand from her seated spot on the log. Without thinking the man takes a step forward to stop this divine goddess from leaving. A twig snaps loudly beneath his clumsily placed foot. Cranes and storks take flight in the same moment the beautiful girl dashes wildly through the woodlands, leaving nothing behind to show her presence even existed except for a single pearl and the awestruck man.
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