for this sculpture came to me when I was standing on
a darkening hill watching magnificent black pompous
clouds of lightning and thunder build-up from the
southwest. After the splatter if lightning on
the ground and blasting of thunder, huge rain drops
presaged a downpour.
think of a lightning storm, I am reminded of the
scenes of Huck and Jim on an island in the river or
King Lear on a heath: "Rumble thy bellyful.
Spit, fire. Spout, rain!" However, I
must admit that to say that this sculpture is a
description of Twain's or Shakespeare's storm might
be a bit of a stretch. All I can say about the
bird at the top is that it seems to be warranted