A mandarin moon moves maleficently across the sun creating an eerie orange glow throughout the valley.
The wind sails in on a sea of white horses. Heads rearing, manes tossing, wildness of a bush fire reflected in their bulging eyes.
Trembling trees grow arms to hug and hold each other tight until the tempest passes.
In its wake a Whirling Dervish picks up its skirts, dances a fantastic fandango to the beat of the retreating horses’ hooves. During the dying throes of the dance the Dervish dips its head into its heart, diminishing in the dust.