Taking to the wind the pink petals of the tree danced and twirled in the comfortable turbulence of the morning. They fluttered far from their mother tree and landed amidst the dew slicked grass of pre-morning. Their dances from the branches were accompanied by the gentle playing of the panda beneath the tree's comfortable reach. He was young and small and played on a guqin far too large for someone his size to carry normally. But his determination seemed to make him able to tough through the near oppressive weight of the fine wood instrument. The tree and he often found themselves together in the rolling hills on mornings like this. The splendor of the morning lent to the petals' descent and to the creativity of Ling's playing, which seemed boundless in the hours before and during sunset. The hills rang with the plucks and pings of strings in melody. The tree, often called Ling's Tree due to their similarities, sat perfectly at the apex of a hill to see the rising sun and his home, the Hao Pagoda, in the distance. Ling turned his head as the sunlight washed over him and his playing ceased for a moment. He gazed into the warm orange of a new day as it came to welcome the world. Ling smiled for a brief moment, then exchanged it for concentration as he played yet more music to welcome the morning and to help the petals that jumped from the branches enjoy their restful descent to the earth. Ling realized in that moment that he needed to embrace that same mentality, the mentality of the cherry blossom that fell from the tree to reach new places. To see freedom, if only for a short period before settling. He hefted the guqin to a better position on his lap and played until it was mid morning, the decision firm in his head.

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This absolutely -stunning- picture was done by the ever incredible  fennekemay and I cannot thank her enough for the incredible work!