Strange Music, At the Same Lovely Pond - Chapter Two...

On September 10th, 2oo8, I wrote a blog(which you can 'archive' to, if you'd like) relating to a strange incident revolving around  music, a radio, and a  large family of ducks.
Once again, at the same lovely pond I usually take my walks around, another rather unique experience took place two days ago:
As I was ambling along, thinking of things musical (of course),  the sound of a recorder very gently  came wafting into my consciousness, from a considerable distance. It was, at first, a  melange of various pitches, but as I drew closer to the source, it jelled into an unmistakable  admixture forming the notes of the pentatonic scale. And as I drew even more closely, it formed into a potpourri of -
1.A lovely, tremolant quality as regards the sound itself; along with
2. A positively vacuous example of direction. There was no melody or discernible rhythm emanating from the source - simply a piddling around the octave arena containing the five sounds of the pentatonic configuration. In other words; a really beautiful sound, in search of a reason to exist.
Just then, as I rounded a curve in the path, I came into visual contact with the source - a young fellow, standing under a small shelter used as  a source of shading from the sun for picnicking or reading etc.
At a distance of thirty or so feet stood a small group of the Curious, probably in wonderment as to why this event was taking place.
Which most efficiently replicates my thoughts as well...