The Sound of Silence(2)

Behind him were people coming to walk, all carried a backpack and wore a headphone, some on their heads, some idly around their necks. They were residents here.
Beyond the gate, rows of willows cast a dim shade, that dyed the air in deep green. A violet daffodil blossomed with shyness, and sent her aroma to the weed who accompanied her during puberty.
On a wooden bench along the lane sat a young man. He wore the same outfit as those residents, pondering.
The boy approached and sat beside, then he asked: ”You must be the shepherd. I heard this name in legend.”

“True,” The young man nodded. “So you are who to consult me. I can tell one’s favorite music one yet does not know. I can set one’s confuse aside, and shepherd one to where one’s True Heart lies.”
“That is good,” the boy replied in content. “Is there a place I can find you any time?”
“I am in everywhere I wander around, like a roaming cloud under the firmament.” The shepherd answered, calmly.
“What is the thing you carry?”
“It is a disc player. When you put a disc into the backpack, music can be played through the headphone.”