Eye in the sky.

Events sometimes transcend expectations. Disparate strands intersect and loop through to build transitory structures, luminous and teasing and beautiful. Unforeseen, implausible, but joyful crystallizations.

For three years now the Asheville Ballet has benefited from a fund-raiser, specifically targeting the costume department. Reasonable enough. A golf tournament is the vehicle: foursomes compete (shotgun start, captain’s choice, single chance mulligan immunity and single red tee allowance available for a small fee). Comfortable terms and a relaxed atmosphere almost mask the ferocious desire to take the trophy home. Friendly ferocious.

We serve doughnuts and coffee for breakfast before the contest. Dancers from the school and company run golf carts laden with snacks and soft drinks out for mid-course refreshment. And there’s a barbecue lunch afterwards. Prize drawings insure nobody loses. And when the receipts and expenses settle, a bump for the costume fund. Sport, charity, and art converge to good purpose. And there’s barbecue.

That’s the underlying structure. Ballet and golf are not often coupled, this is true. Ballet is usually an inside and cooperative business. And golf is played to win, outside in the sunshine on wide swathes of grass. Still. Why not? It’s worked three times now, a little bit implausible and quite successful.

Cue the drone: a new strand engages with the braid.

Remote control.

Quadra copter.

On the grass, revving up, then she rises with a scratchy buzz.

The watchers.

Down the valley.

Eventually the little vessel sails hundreds of feet overhead and far down the valley.

With the buzz of a hundred hornets.

Drone rising.

Cue the provocateur (incidentally, most of the second-place team’s best scores were his). To provide an enlarged context? To embellish the instant? To open the gates?

Heritage, not hatred.

HK and his banner.

And bringing the little ship home. Whether it will land upon the same planet it left just minutes before, is one of the questions. When the magic of a Fool stirs fresh spices in the dish, your barbecue modulates. Also all the rest, as everything shifts to bind in the new information.

Black Mountain Golf Course, and more.

Return to earth.

With luck, one outcome for all this may be a new pink tutu for the dewdrop fairy, or new skirts for the snow corps. Can anyone diagram the process we have engaged here, first to last, leaving nothing out, giving to each element its due weight? Well, bless you for trying.

For all, a lovely morning. And for this year, a wrap.