Symphonica: Movement VIII

Cellar door. According to J.R.R. Tolkien, the most beautiful sound in all of English. He claimed so in his 1955 essay English and Welsh. I quote:

"Most English-speaking people... will admit that cellar door is 'beautiful', especially if dissociated from its sense (and from its spelling). More beautiful than, say, sky, and far more beautiful than beautiful. Well, then, in Welsh for me cellar doors are extraordinarily frequent, and moving to the higher dimension, the words in which there is pleasure in the contemplation of the association of form and sense are abundant."

Although I do agree with him, I think we should not so lightly dismiss the meaning of this euphonious compound. The world you might find behind a cellar door! Carven niches containing otherwordly secrets and shadows. Entire gardens blooming with the verdure of a lime tree in fullest ornament.
Ayah’s unfurl in the deepest reaches and crumbling corners of a makeshift mosque, even as the duhr sounds amid a sea of orisons.

No words or sounds could describe the sights you could discover at the opening of a heavy oaken door, carved with intricate designs and figurines within esoteric dances. The creaking of this hefty portal is a deiporous song of deepest reverence and beauty. You could truly find anything here, if only you dare open it.