When the white cat arrived under the Cat Fruit Tree, the black cat was narrowing its eyes, listening to the nighttime symphony.
The evening breeze brushed past the treetops, wove through the neatly trimmed shrubs below, creating a rustling sound that formed the background of the symphony.
In the distance, frog croaks came from the lakeside of Bell Lake. They had just crawled out of the mud holes after a long winter and sounded a bit breathless, yet their voices were full of the joy of new life; nearby, there were the low hums of insects under the grasses and shrubs. Honestly, the black cat couldn't distinguish the sounds of the katydids, bell crickets, or grasshoppers and tree crickets, it only felt that within the cacophony, a surprisingly soothing harmony flowed.
And there were birds singing melodiously under the moonlight.
The gently swaying water of the lake was tranquil.
Occasional hints of human voices floated by.
