One moment in Hanoi

I walked around the lake a couple of times this afternoon, a cold day for Hanoi, a bit above 60, a bit wet, very nice.  Lots of people were out, it's Sunday after all, time to socialize with friends.  I stopped into a restaurant on the lake, one that I have passed often, very touristy (but it's my last afternoon and I am a tourist, after all) and ordered a pot of tea.  Sat outside, under a dripping umbrella, daydreaming about my impending career in cinema thinking about my trip home tomorrow, about the rest of the month, about Christmas eve in ten days.  Then I heard music, very clear notes, one at a time, like someone was playing a xylophone, a pure, single sound.  No one else paid attention, as if they didn't hear it.  But they must have.  Maybe it always happens at 4:00 in the afternoon and is therefore easy to ignore.  It was as if the music was slowly moving,  lifting up, like mist off a lake. It went on for about three minutes, one simple tone after the other, a lovely little melody.  It was almost like birdsong, organic and free.  It was perfect.  A wonderful moment.