"It took me all summer to tune Gordon’s poplars into a simple chord progression, but after I figured out a few basic principles, I became surprisingly skilled."

"He shook my hand warmly, though, mesmerized by a magnolia tree playing the jingle from an old bologna ad."

"We strolled beneath a laurel hedge that played the James Bond theme song."

“My mother sang Offenbach’s barcarolle with the windows open to help me find my way home from school.”

“The best times for lying under our grand piano were when my father practiced Chopin’s barcarolle so loud and fast, he’d forget I was there.”

“Years ago, around the time Gracie and I got married, an arboretum volunteer posted a video of the rain on the trees playing a cheerful, catchy tune about sunlight spreading across the world.”

"The music from the trees above Mitch reminded me of the day my dad tapped his chest, explaining the power of repetition. The trees above his tent played a sad, endless loop about losing someone and not being able to go on."

“'Opus 9, Nocturne number one was our song,' Clarissa said about her late husband."

"I missed Gracie so much that all the best Chopin riffs developed a weird Willie Nelson overlay."

"After a day, faint traces of Henryk Gorecki’s 'Symphony of Sorrowful Songs' emerged whenever the wind blew through the leaves."

"Container ships and ferries crossed the bay while a crisp offshore breeze stirred the trees into a song of such heartache that it hardly mattered that the words were in Polish, or faded from the dying leaves."