Hush little baby, don't you cry. Mama's gonna buy you a golden comb. If that won't soothe you, mama's gonna sing you a charming song. And if that doesn't, mama's gonna rock you in a comfortable swing. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star Little star, high up in the sky, how I wonder what you are. Up far the world so high, like a jewel in the dark. You

As the golden rays sinks below the horizon, a gentle wind begins to flow through the leaves. It brings with it the essence of summer, a symphony both sweet. Listen closely, and you may feel the faint murmurs on the breeze. They tell stories of joy, of discovery, and of the enchantment that infuses us all. Perhaps they are fantasies carried on the