(attending nature's concert on an early June eve)
All this very day there is an heavy tension, an unsought for expectation of events unanticipated and unforeseen to come in The City. This tension is throughout the air. It is heavy. It wholly permeates the atmosphere which all of us stroll in. And, in time, unconsciously and unknowingly, this subtle and covert tension weighs one unwittingly down - being so hiddenly oppressive - forsooth it truly craves, it truly cries out for a resolution, a relief from this unrelieved and unmitigated ponderous onus!
Albeit close on the edge of summer, the day becomes preternaturally dark adding to the atmosphere of oppressiveness and the intangible feeling of events to unfold.
A gentle zephyr caresses my body. It becomes stronger - a more humid breeze teasingly tousles my hair. All of a sudden I am struck with a juxtaposition - this incoming storm - and that of a concert!
I am sitting on my terrazzino - and suddenly at once - the thought strikes me that this is my box seat! The parallels are striking - this humid oppressiveness of the day is akin to the anticipation of attending a special concert, having purchased a ticket awhile before and waiting for the event to happen. My musings are interrupted abruptly by a hint of a flash - a lightning flash. So, the movement begins. A long pause - a faint drumroll is heard just as if a musician was preparing his kettledrums.
A slight drizzle ensues, random micro-droplets intermittently disport themselves upon me, akin to detached notes randomly playing, but there is a theme here, yet to be realized. The thrumming of the patter of the rain is akin to a pedal point of this incipient movement. Then - a true first flash - a second - and even a third!
The tension in the air is still palpable as the following low rumble, almost obligatory after the lightening flashes reverberates amongst the heavens. In a smooth transition, a tribute to the hidden conductor, the pedal point, the one of the drizzle picks up the pace. It thrums more noticeabley in a faster tempo, coming more to the fore. The zephyr becomes a stronger breeze, as the theme of this movement developed. Then - from nowhere, an unexpected high pitched peal of thunder stridingly resounds as if it were a giant cymbal clangingly clashing! A quick flicker of light illuminates the heavens and again the heavens resound with celestial horns, asserting itself over the increasing downpour of rain.
I shift in my box seat - my eyrie, as I espy, in the dark, the tableau of sights and listen to multitudinous sounds. I'm an observer, not a participant, and my senses are heightened by the dynamics of the atmosphere which is, by now, far less oppressive than before, being literally electrically charged! Again, I am struck, how alike to a symphonic concert this powerful display of nature presents. There are woodwinds - the susurrus of winds, and the pedal point represented by the powerful steady downpour, rising from time to time in a crescendo and at times diminishing, as if the unknown composer inserted a diminuendo to the orchestra.
My absorption in this piece is now total. The tension of prior has been transformed, relieved, and then intensified by this new movement - as if a celestial Beethoven himself composed this as such! Then, teasingly, the whole piece just ebbs! - leaving in its wake a frustration of the unknowing language of this nature's concert, as if this celestial Beethoven toys with us by changing this movement in midstream, being wholly unpredictable...
I sit back in my seat which seems to be the best seat in the house, albeit I am alone. The movement continues slowly when all of a sudden a hideous and wholly siren interjects itself no less harshly as if a cell phone by a thoughtless patron blared out. Somehow, in conjunction, no doubt triggered by this errant and despicable intrusion, a cacophonic chorus of car alarms ensues.
The spell of the night is fractured.
However, all of a sudden, the second movement is engaged! The pedal point - the rain - is now furiously strumming/pouring in all their harmonious glory. This tempest picks up flashes and accompanies almost in tandem by the percussion of deep drum rolls edged with cymbalic clashes! 'tis wondrous to behold by sight and ear and body! For the sound permeates and one does truly feel the reverberations in the chest - this sound, forsooth, extends its way beyond one's range of hearing and the low registers of the sound rumbles throughout the torso.
I sit up, stand, and then lean over the parapet/railing so once more entranced and enchanted by tonight's performance. I inhale - and soak in the scent of wondrously damp earth and faint scents of unknown plants and herbs intermingled. It is good that I am dressed appropriate for the occasion (not in a tuxedo, but in shorts!) for I now can feel gentle zephyrs coming to caress me in counterpoint and even syncopated adornments of over-watery dew, sensuously covering my skin, and then again playfully tousling my hair. After a tad, they become more insistent that I needs resume my seat. Just in time for a the most brilliant lightning strike followed almost instantaneously by an intense titanic tympanic clash! Truly I am in the best seat and I return to the reality of what is transpiring (after the dreadful interruption) - fearful that I may miss some part! Now, consoled by the pouring rain I am once more captivated! Flashes of lightning and accompaning rumbles are as if a celestial Verdian "Dies Irae" composed them! Then it ebbs - an interlude ensues, the rains lessen, the flickers of lightning become just flickers of light, no longer insanely crashing acoss the rain drenched night sky.
I sit back. It is becoming calm and I realize this is the third movement. It lulls me to a tranquil complacency akin to passion being spent after a night with one's love, so dear, as if resting safely, lovingly in the aftermath in a sweaty embrace, so, with the memory of this nights aequeous dew presented from the participants of this night's spectacle, I find a simple solace, a simple respite from the mundane. Truly, this night's concert by powers elemental has furthered bolstered the love of being...
Terrazzino - Italian for "little terrace". Colloquially known as balconies. I like the feel of the word on my tongue - a staccato (SPELLING?) expression, if you would, which plays upon the percussive effects of storm and musical concert.
(C) © MMVI by Bohdan Peter Rekshynskyj. All Rights Reserved.