Bluegrass, from the depth of America's South, bellows and twangs out speakers and into my wanting ears. Eyes, they close, as the soul sways like a lakeside willow tree. My heart swells with love, electric guitars and banjos. I can taste the notes and the chords. I can see Summer waving her pretty hand down the dirt roads. Wind blows, picks me up and I can only see her below, below.