Theater: The Field.
Seat: Front Row Center--the Adirondack chair on my deck.
Star: The Full Moon.
Choreographer: The South Wind.
Corps-de-ballet : High Strata of Moving Clouds.
Soloists: Lower Rushing Clouds.
I settled in to watch. The clouds leaped and whirled around the moon, creating an ever-changing chiaroscuro. Sometimes they hid the moon. Moments later they rushed apart, bedazzling her in golden streamers. The fir trees conducted like a forest of maestros. The bells rang.
The tickets to the Wind Ballet may be free, but they’re extremely hard to get. (Connections in high places might help, try weather gods Horus or Zeus.)
First we need a full moon—so that limits us to twelve possible nights per year. Then we need just the right weather. If the clouds are dense—no show. If the night is clear—no show. If the night is still—no show. (Two layers of wind and clouds are ideal). And, worst of all, if you don’t make the time to go look—you won’t see the show even if there is one.
So last night was the perfect confluence of calendar, weather, and fortitude for one of the most spectacular Wind Ballets ever. I’ve seen only one more spectacular—one night on the Amalfi Coast in Italy, at the Villa Scarpariello Relais on a cliff above the sea. Come to think of it, the Wind Ballet that night was one of the prime inspirations for 7:30 BELLS.
7:30 BELLS Posts run every Tuesday.
7:30 BELLS Guest Posts run on the second Tuesday of every month. Join me on November 10 for a guest post with children's book author Jim Whiting.