. . .a man, stooped and crooked with age. His long, powdery white beard danced as the gentle forest breeze blew in from the open door. He wore a dark green robe covered with similar designs found on the door and a brown, leather belt encircled his frail waist, adorned with pouches and bags of mysterious content. His feet, bare, kept tempo with his entrancing melody. He looked up at his visitor as his knurled fingers continued to softly flutter with surprisingly youthful grace. As their eyes met. . .