Thursday, August 7, 2008

A Symphony of Missteps

After months of being homebound or kid-bound, we finally get away for
a weekend of bicycling with each other and hiking with the dogs. As
we Google to make plans, we discover the artsy Chautauqua Institution
(near Jamestown, NY) sells Thursday night symphony tickets for $16
(way cheap), so we head west.

We also discover the upscale community isn't used to motor homes and
finds my request to overnight in the overflow parking lot novel enough
to approve.

So we walk the dogs (twice), eat dinner (beef stew from home), dress
up a bit and hop on our bikes for the 10-minute down-hill ride to the
amphitheater. We decide the dogs will be fine without us as long as we
leave the sunroof, vents and windows wide open to collect the mountain
air.

Near intermission, as pianist William Wolfram presented a stormy
rendition of Liszt's Piano Concerto No. 1 in E-Flat Major, I thought I
heard real thunder. During the interlude of bows, lightening snapped
all around. More thunder, more lightening, then a torrential rainfall
that wowed the audience as much as Mr. Wolfram did.

As we watch and listen to the rain, we think of Otto and the boys,
open wide to welcome in the mountain air and, we lament, the deluge.
We tick off decisions we wish we hadn't made:
Window over the bed: Open
Window over the sink: Open
Window over the table: Open
Window over the camera bag: Open
Window over the computers: Open

As the rain falls impossibly harder, we sigh and settle back to enjoy
42 minutes of Rimsky-Korsakov's "Scheherazade." The rain finally
lightens and as the final applause dies, we hop on our soaked bikes
and pedal the 10-minute up-hill ride in a light drizzle.

What we find astonishes us. All is basically dry or just damp. Nothing
is damaged.

Doggies are very happy to have us home.