I reposted R’man’s post, because it is wonderful account of a rainstorm and a sunset, but also reminds me of a similar piece I wrote many years ago on Live Journal.
And here is my old article:
Summer Spectacular Ballet in Oz
The Emerald City is the home of some of the most avant garde arts in the universe. This weekend we were graced with this summer’s third appearance of Polychrome and all her siblings in their full glory dancing with the storm, the lightning and the rainbow. What a gala event.
We gathered outside, sitting in the plazas and the on the roof tops because this kind of event is too big to be contained in our largest arena. Although we in the Emerald City had the best view, no one in Oz missed the event; it could be seen everywhere.
The Ballet, as one might call it, was in 3 acts. In the first act, Oya made her appearance first, swooping through and sweeping the skies and spaces clean with her broom which creates long eddies and tight vortices dancing along the borders of climactic change. There is a feeling of electricity in the air, the hair stands out from the back of the neck. The winds shift and intensify. We are uncomfortable. A change is coming.
At the beginning of the second act, we hear thunder. Chango, Oya’s second husband, is responding to the lightning charge she gave him so many years ago. He rumbles and dances. Oya gave him Lightning to go with his rumbles, but she kept back the little spark that dictates where the lightning charge goes.
Oya is is always recognized as the choreographer in this dance. Chango may be the star, but Oya always tells him where to go. The Oya Chango duet, the highlight of pyrotechnics, the absolutely awe-inspiring dance of the storm breaks over us. The finale of this act is in the discharge of the energy in wind, rain, and lightning. We, the audience may allow ourselves to get wet or we may use umbrellas to stay kind of dry. We may join in the magnificent performance by dancing and participating like singing or playing instruments. This kind of summer spectacular is too big to just sit there. We can hardly contain the kids from running around outside, their faces up and mouths open.
After some time, the rain diminishes; the lightning and thunder go away. The 3rd act opens. Even while the ground runs with echoes of the rain, the skies open up and the Rainbow’s Children dance on the rainbow. Children love to step into the eddies of the run-off for the spinning, dizziness, it invokes as the sand washes away from their heels. Sometimes they fall over in their experience of moving backward while the water seems to stay still.
The rainbow snatches them up, whirls then around and lets them go. They plunk into the puddles on their butts and splash the water with their hands. The weird little critters that live underground come up choking for air, and children shriek to see their weird crawly forms. (No doubt they will tell darling Professor Wogglebug about them later this year and learn some lessons in how we all live together, from him).
This incredible National summer spectacular rarely happens more than a half dozen times a summer, so it is always a big event and the subject of many months of conversation. We do have some local practice meets in the spring, but the best stuff happens in the summer.