Sunshine patchwork

Fickle old thing, it warmed us up late morning, then shied away when I had my errand time; forgot to note that the other day I heard what sounded like a concertina being squeezed down by the lake; it was actually a very down and out looking fellow, holding what looked like a miniature keyboard to his mouth, and blowing -on it? Through it? He was producing the most indescribable riffing, in tune, completely unrecognizable as any cliche song or line of melody. Now that I think about it, the blowing part may have simply been a physical accompaniment, and had nothing to do with the sounds trailing out. As I drew farther away, the breeze kept forwarding little bits of his sound. It would have made an amazing little black and white documentary moment.