It is the time just before rain, the time when the flies bite like kamikaze, when the birds fly low and the sky hangs overhead black, heavy and expectant, when all the colors are washed in gray, subdued and intense, yet punched through by radiant hues.
It’s about to burst.
A heavy sense of expectation, of lowering, of time just before something large overwhelms the picture, the frame, the rhythm, the colors, the light, the music and the characters.
Still, the story moves fast, faster than words.