Hollow tubes hung in the breeze, singing when the wind stirs them.
The pentatonic scale — five notes that always sound good together. No dissonance possible, only varying degrees of harmony.
Move to create wind. The faster you move, the stronger the breeze. Or wait — there's always a little wind, and the chimes will find their own rhythm.
Each tube is a different length, a different pitch. The striker drifts between them, catching whatever it catches.
"The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes."