Quiet Village by Martin Denny

Sometimes, when you can’t remember the last time the thermometer rose above 32 degrees, and you’re just tired of having a dull chill in your bones, it helps to escape to another place. Sometimes that place is a village on the edge of a beach somewhere in the Polynesian Islands. Maybe you’re sipping a drink from a hollowed-out coconut, preparing yourself for whatever the night will have to offer. And as you look out over the water at the sinking sun, you get a bit of an ominous feeling about the darkness to come.
And this is what it sounds like.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s