O C T O B E R
What a time
to celebrate -
the year's
last
loveliest smile.*
to celebrate -
the year's
last
loveliest smile.*
------------------------------------------------------
* William Cullen-Bryant
Saturday, October 28, 2017
Saturday, October 21, 2017
Dances With Miss Weather
October Party
Shall we dance
They begin with a particularly vivacious polka. At the head of line dancers is Miss Weather, traipsing in hop-step-close-step to the lively bohemian dance. She soars and dips at the same instant, seemingly weightless.
She then begins to combine slow steps and quick steps. Slow, slow, quick, quick to a rather fast but very smooth foxtrot. She is light on her feet, her dress flowing around her ankles. She is spinning through the crowd like a brilliant flame. Others join her, swooping around the dance floor in a quick and graceful two-step: hands joined together, first pointed toward the ceiling, than toward the floor.
As the tempo slows down into a graceful waltz, partners cling to each other in the intimacy of an embrace.
Will you please do me the honor? Quaking Aspen proffers a hand to Crimson Maple. He leads her gently to the dance floor. They glide through as though they exist only in the clinging circle they have made, parting the other dancers like water.
Presently, the music segues into a raucous latin beat. Everyone begins to rhumba happily, laughing and shaking their bodies. Then, in catchy jitterbug steps, the revelers begin swinging and rock and rolling.
The quick and energetic boogie-woogie follows. Party celebrants are shimmying. To the next tune, they emulate the Moon Walk, backward, on tiptoe.
Thereafter, some break into a Bollywood routine and spread up and down the edges of the dance floor, picking from the audience to join them in their gyrations. The music begins to reach its crescendo. People spin around until the floor seems to threaten to come away from their feet.
The sensual and energetic salsa movement becomes a show-stopper next, only to be challenged by singing, guitar-playing, and hand claps that accompany the magical and passionate flamenco.
Then, mambo time. Ooh, let's mambo, Wild Cherry hisses to Golden Pomegranate in a fierce whisper. Excuse us, won't you? The couple astonish fellow dancers with flirtatious, sensual rock and side steps, kicking and flicking their feet, and shaking their hips.
They scurry off, though, as Dogwood gives a warning. Move away, please. He's leading a conga line around the room, twitching like he's got fleas.
Crowded onto the dance floor, everyone gyrates, sways, and frolics with abandon into the wee hours of the October sky. Revelers are whisked on the dance floor to be twirled. And promenaded. And dipped. And spun.
Merrymakers at the party break into spontaneous dance.
Shall we dance
On a bright cloud of music, shall we fly?
They begin with a particularly vivacious polka. At the head of line dancers is Miss Weather, traipsing in hop-step-close-step to the lively bohemian dance. She soars and dips at the same instant, seemingly weightless.
She then begins to combine slow steps and quick steps. Slow, slow, quick, quick to a rather fast but very smooth foxtrot. She is light on her feet, her dress flowing around her ankles. She is spinning through the crowd like a brilliant flame. Others join her, swooping around the dance floor in a quick and graceful two-step: hands joined together, first pointed toward the ceiling, than toward the floor.
As the tempo slows down into a graceful waltz, partners cling to each other in the intimacy of an embrace.
Will you please do me the honor? Quaking Aspen proffers a hand to Crimson Maple. He leads her gently to the dance floor. They glide through as though they exist only in the clinging circle they have made, parting the other dancers like water.
Presently, the music segues into a raucous latin beat. Everyone begins to rhumba happily, laughing and shaking their bodies. Then, in catchy jitterbug steps, the revelers begin swinging and rock and rolling.
The quick and energetic boogie-woogie follows. Party celebrants are shimmying. To the next tune, they emulate the Moon Walk, backward, on tiptoe.
Thereafter, some break into a Bollywood routine and spread up and down the edges of the dance floor, picking from the audience to join them in their gyrations. The music begins to reach its crescendo. People spin around until the floor seems to threaten to come away from their feet.
The sensual and energetic salsa movement becomes a show-stopper next, only to be challenged by singing, guitar-playing, and hand claps that accompany the magical and passionate flamenco.
Then, mambo time. Ooh, let's mambo, Wild Cherry hisses to Golden Pomegranate in a fierce whisper. Excuse us, won't you? The couple astonish fellow dancers with flirtatious, sensual rock and side steps, kicking and flicking their feet, and shaking their hips.
They scurry off, though, as Dogwood gives a warning. Move away, please. He's leading a conga line around the room, twitching like he's got fleas.
Crowded onto the dance floor, everyone gyrates, sways, and frolics with abandon into the wee hours of the October sky. Revelers are whisked on the dance floor to be twirled. And promenaded. And dipped. And spun.
One, two, three, and...
One, two, three, and...
Saturday, October 14, 2017
Professor Wind's Band
October Party
Miss Weather led the dancing,
Maestro taps his baton.
The harmony of sounds commences with the beautiful, quiet, and soul-calming puff of air that mimics the comforting slowdown of the year. It has a kind of looseness in it, nothing to steer or slow it down.
Tropical Easterlies blowing with consistent, steady strength floats in with a slow, lyrical movement. They comb gently through the American beautyberry branches, making a long whispering sound, as though trading secrets with the sweetgum tree.
Gentle Gust drifts in from the northeast. Like a sigh, soft morning Whiff rushes up from the housetops, a calming interlude before the excitement of the outer movements.
The subtle voices of time and the gentle Currents blowing over the clean, tame earth slow down the rhythm to a pastoral. Then follows Breeze, warm and dry. It glides by in the calm, cloudless weather with a melody of wide intervals.
As Mountain Breeze slides its cold air from mountain to the valley, the tempo changes into a forceful, syncopated rhythm.
Then, Periodic Winds swirl around, wailing like a lost child with irregular, abrupt harmonic changes. In counterpoint, Land, Sea, Mountain and Valley Breezes howl in terraced dynamics.
The winds blow in synchronicity. All themes sound up concurrently into a harmonious combination of elements. The party has begun.
A symphony of sounds, beat, and music enjoins all, Shall we dance?
Miss Weather led the dancing,
Professor Wind the band.
Maestro taps his baton.
The harmony of sounds commences with the beautiful, quiet, and soul-calming puff of air that mimics the comforting slowdown of the year. It has a kind of looseness in it, nothing to steer or slow it down.
Tropical Easterlies blowing with consistent, steady strength floats in with a slow, lyrical movement. They comb gently through the American beautyberry branches, making a long whispering sound, as though trading secrets with the sweetgum tree.
Gentle Gust drifts in from the northeast. Like a sigh, soft morning Whiff rushes up from the housetops, a calming interlude before the excitement of the outer movements.
The subtle voices of time and the gentle Currents blowing over the clean, tame earth slow down the rhythm to a pastoral. Then follows Breeze, warm and dry. It glides by in the calm, cloudless weather with a melody of wide intervals.
As Mountain Breeze slides its cold air from mountain to the valley, the tempo changes into a forceful, syncopated rhythm.
Then, Periodic Winds swirl around, wailing like a lost child with irregular, abrupt harmonic changes. In counterpoint, Land, Sea, Mountain and Valley Breezes howl in terraced dynamics.
The winds blow in synchronicity. All themes sound up concurrently into a harmonious combination of elements. The party has begun.
A symphony of sounds, beat, and music enjoins all, Shall we dance?
Wednesday, October 4, 2017
Leaves By Hundreds
October Party
The guests, painted leaves and brightly-tinted trees of all kinds, have arrived. The air is alive with chatter and laughter.
Birch, golden as sunshine, is an early standout. Royal crimson Maple, gorgeous in shades of red, orange and yellow, follows soon after.
Wild Cherry, in the loveliest shades of dark red and bronze green, saunters through the raucous crowd. Tagging along is Quaking Aspen which dazzles with its golden leaves, shimmering as they flutter in even the slightest breeze.
Not to be outshone, Fragrant Witch Hazel glows with its yellow leaves and mophead-shaped flowers.
All eyes are now on Pomegranate's bright golden leaves, arriving hand in hand with Blueberry's variegated leaves of yellow, orange, and wine red. As well, Red-Twig Dogwood's reddish-purple leaves lend a welcome flash of regal, passionate color, lighting the way for an exciting air of romance and festivity.
The gala parade continues.
Guests have come like moths among the whisperings and the spiked apple cider cocktail, flirting in a sea of fiery red and yellow autumn foliage.
Maestro, music please. Let's kick off the revelry!
The leaves by hundreds came -
The Chestnuts, Oaks, and Maples,
And leaves of every name.
The guests, painted leaves and brightly-tinted trees of all kinds, have arrived. The air is alive with chatter and laughter.
Birch, golden as sunshine, is an early standout. Royal crimson Maple, gorgeous in shades of red, orange and yellow, follows soon after.
Wild Cherry, in the loveliest shades of dark red and bronze green, saunters through the raucous crowd. Tagging along is Quaking Aspen which dazzles with its golden leaves, shimmering as they flutter in even the slightest breeze.
Not to be outshone, Fragrant Witch Hazel glows with its yellow leaves and mophead-shaped flowers.
All eyes are now on Pomegranate's bright golden leaves, arriving hand in hand with Blueberry's variegated leaves of yellow, orange, and wine red. As well, Red-Twig Dogwood's reddish-purple leaves lend a welcome flash of regal, passionate color, lighting the way for an exciting air of romance and festivity.
The gala parade continues.
Guests have come like moths among the whisperings and the spiked apple cider cocktail, flirting in a sea of fiery red and yellow autumn foliage.
Maestro, music please. Let's kick off the revelry!
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