Reminds me of a beautifull moment that happened some years ago.
We have a cottage (built by my dad) on a woodlot north of Barrie, Ontario. Next to the cottage is a county forest with a rather large hill on it - about a quater-mile away. On occasion, bikers like to party on that hill, which is remote enough that cops rarely check it out.
Well, one day we came up to the cottage for some rural R&R, and I noticed a lot of activity on the hill. Turns out, some bikers were preparing for a party. A BIG party. They were hauling what looked like big speakers, a generator and stuff up to the hill.
I was concerned. And I was right to be concerned.
As soon as it got dark, a huge bonfire was lit and the music started up. The sound was very distorted, but very very loud - so much for the ambiance of the woods, all we could hear was a sort of “OOM-pa, OOM-pa, OOM-pa” noise. It was so loud in our cabin you had to talk loudly over it - lord knows how loud it was on the hill.
I was not looking forward to hearing that all night. But then, nature itself came to our rescue!
Without much warning, the weather, which had been perfect all day, changed. A mighty crack of lightning split the sky, followed by a truly torrential downpour of rain. I gather that the bikers had not brought tarps, or otherwise planned for rain, because what we heard then went something like “OOm-pa, OOM-pa OOM-perrrrzziccsnapsquuek”. Then, silence. Only the soothing drumming of the rain on the roof.
After an hour, the rain eased off to a drizzle, but the music did not start up. Nor was the bonfire in evidence. The only noise from the hill was a sort of pathetic “yah-hoo! Yaaah-hooo!” from the die-hards, which only lasted for a couple of minutes.
We slept well that night. 