music played out of doors

Some kind of punk rock music is reaching my ears, through my open window, from an outdoor stage not far away. Heavy metal is supposed to follow soon.

I think I'm the only Finn not fond of heavy metal.

Sometimes, when there's not a rock festival in progress, gentler music may reach my ears from some minstrel playing at the seaside café.

Until such a time, I'll take the punk rock. Soon enough, the deep silence of winter will be here. As John Keats said,

“Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know.”