Lorenzo, the cello, sings to the tree:

“Look how grand you are, how perfectly balanced! Your roots are buried deep in the soil pulling the earths nutrients and water into your veins. Your leaves soak in sunlight and are kissed by the rains. You see the skies change above you, from dusk till dawn, and millions of stars. Creatures climb in your branches; birds nest in your crevices and in the fall your acorns feed the squirrels. Some even become new young trees, your children. Friends surround you, you are alive, and you will go on forever”.

The tree sways and creaks in the wind:

“Beautiful Lorenzo, you are from the woods and will always carry the sound of the trees in your delicately carved shape. Hour-by-hour patient and loving hands whittled your body thin and sealed you with dark varnish. And hour-by-hour patient hands dance on your neck, and a warm human heart beats at your back. Thousands of ears will hear your song, as the very soul of human kind is coaxed from your wood. You will see Rome, Paris and Buenos Aires, and watch for centuries as the world changes, yet also stays the same. Your sound will deepen, grow wiser and you will perform, be recorded and embraced. Friends surround you, you are alive, and you will go on forever.

So you see, we are the same, and as I go with you through all the world, you will always return and sing to me.”