The Concert

(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 ali