The air holds its breath in expectation. And a stern icy exhalation from distant coastal mountains cleanses life of its noon-time sweat. Excitement escalates and voices in chorus bustle like fast-talking sea-gulls. Everywhere there is movement and yet one moment in time seems frozen like the small turtle in a stagnant pond of a water-color painting. Frame by frame, the day passes in flickers like a cartoon court-jester playing hide-and-seek with his own shadow. And then, quite suddenly, the game is over and a multitude of neatly lined-up players clap hands with jolly satisfaction.
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