The Five Seasons of TearMint

A first taste of instrumental music in the world of TearMint, experience the five seasons in beautiful tunes. Each season takes on a different tone. Yes, that's right. Five seasons. Not four, but five. From sweeping cello, to gentle piano, too quick fiddle, or slight plucked lute, take a listen and immersive yourself in the various seasons.

Of course, this is for free, as it is the first try at making my own instrumental music without lyrics. It was difficult to find the right instruments that fit not only the image, tune, season itself, and place, but I think it worked wonderfully. Every single one to me is evergreen and serene, calm, yet mysterious and magical. I surely hope it relaxes you, as you can play it anywhere you deem.

Sweet Spring: With a soft buttercup colored painting, spring is the time of rebirth and renewal. The beginning of the year. Warm yet cool weather, sunny rays, clean air, amazing day time. Depicting a beautiful hanging willow tree on the edge of a clear glass pond, decked with green lily pads and brushes of yellow flowers along it's bank, flapped by butterflies and back-winged dragon flys. Kind lute plucking, wistful flute, and lovely cornmuse, sit down on the edge of the water, smell the wafting blooms, and feel the cold liquid against you feet.

Sunny Summer: A vast field of wheat, shining bright in the steaming sun, golden and hot. Summer is the middle, the time for crop growth, travel, happiness, excitement. Quick and light, this one will make you want to toss your boots off and dance a jig to its timely tune of fiddle and viola. Soft smelling barely and baking, farmers slice their sickles against milling, walk through it's valleys, let the heads of corn and bread tickle your sides!

Apple Autumn: A picturesque autumn wood, with tall sturdy oaks graced by crimson red leaves, lemon yellow, and fire orange, all wrapped in a soothing blanket of brown twigs and mossy stone. High in the background, arches an old hewn cobbled bridge, reaching to the other side, wondering where it leads. Cinnamon and pumpkin are in the wind, with faint traces of caramel and apple and pie and cider. Crackling hearths blazing with flame await you against the chilly weather. A waterfall trails somewhere in the distance. A waterfall The coo of birds sing in the ancient trees and the snap of leaf and stick under your foot, beckons you further into this glazed forest. Tug your scarf and coat closer, tidy up those knickers, venture in, and enjoy the calm, as strong steep Waystones pull you forward to Tinue. Gentle piano, deep cello, beautiful violin, all ready to strain against your ears.

Wild Winter: In a frozen pine forest, white snow falls from a gray sky. Spruces creak and groan, as their thin branches are weighed down by the sharp, jagged blue icicle's that cling to its bark. Their leaves falling away to dead dark oak spears, covered in the faintest emerald green needle. A skinny stream meanders through it's creeked gully, slathered over with frost and flake. It is lonely. It is dark. It is cold. It is empty. Deep and vast and wide. As snow pelts down to paint the world in a velvet white, so too, can whispers of wind be heard in the silence. Sweet cello, violin echoes. Tranquil piano. And a tinkly haunting music box for it's end.

Cae Cressaeth: The fifth and final season of TearMint. Purple twilight. Purple shades. White trees, white rocks, white ground, white leaves, white wood, white-cream everything. Blood red snow, as deep as port wine and warm as crimson drops, tickles down from a moonful night. The light of the sun or moon is so strong that it bathes the world in purple light. It lasts only 333 seconds, only happening once every 333 years. It only occurs in an isolated part of a forest, or field, or meadow, or mountain top. Three people have claimed to see it. Illien, Hugo, and Bast. Most people do not know of its existence. It's rare to come by. Some philosopher's and physickers at The University can not fathom why this is so. Tales claim it happens when an ancient Faen spirit steps foot in the mortal earth. Others say it's when the sun and moon collide together in the sky, all silver and black as night. While tavern dwellers and tinkers say it's the moon saying "I love you," to the one that holds her true name. Arcanists think it's based on old Shaldish star iron in the sky that becomes shattered. Cealdish believe it's magic. Vints chock it up too dead dragaurs walking in shadowy pathways. Modegians see it as the Singers putting each of their piece of sky glass over the sun and moon, to give it that glare. Aturans think it doesn't exist, as well as smaller towns. Junes have never seen it. The Edema Ruh know it as Waystones cracking from their foundations. No one knows.

Enjoy it's beautiful war drums, it's soft ethereal humming, the soft tune of violin, the sweet call of a female Fae singing to it's ancestors. It's mysterious and magical. It's enchanting. It's lively and lovely. It's deep and old and smells of cherry. It's curious, cunning, and odd and it burns with strange fire and everything in between. It's got a voice.

I made all of the instrumental by picking the certain instruments to develop into a song. I've rambled on long enough, so go ahead and download it. Give it a listen. It is really something.

Length: 41 minutes

File Type: MP4

Type: Song

Genre: Fantasy\Fairytale\Instrumental\Nature\Seasons\Hugo the BloodLess

Creator and Insturmentalist: Jack Buie

Image: Ashley Jones\Jack Buie